Quest For the Holy Grail
by Chesry
Summary: Sam and Dean pick up a young hitchhiker, Jay, and her dog Charlie. Adventure awaits! Friendship for OC X EVERYBODY!
1. Chapter 1: Hitchhiking

**Just to warn people, this is not going to be a romantic story. If I progress far enough, there might be some, but it probably won't be with Sam or Dean. If that's what you're looking for, you're going to be disappointed.**

**Also, take note that it's been a while, but I think this starts somewhere in Season 5, after the Apocalypse has begun, but other than that there's not a whole lot of continuity canon-wise. I took some liberties. A lot, actually. Hopefully you'll still enjoy!**

**Thanks :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Hitchhiking<strong>

Jay ambled along the shoulder of a highway with her left arm stretched out, hand curled into a fist, and thumb sticking up in a half-hearted attempt to catch the attention of passing drivers. She didn't have much hope. Two days ago she'd walked for miles and miles, all day and well into the night, before finding Marla's Inn, a shabby motel of questionable cleanliness. A bed, though, was a bed - and yesterday night she'd had to forego even that, finding the softest spot of hidden ground and collapsing on her sleeping bag next to her exhausted mutt, Charlie.

Seven days ago Jay had been able to hitch a ride from Allie, a heavy but friendly trucker who liked to rant about politics and whose destination was Nashville, Tennessee. Drivers like Allie rarely came along - not many people were willing to pick up a hitchhiker, let alone their dog, and then travel many miles with them and _then_ set them up in a three star hotel that served real bacon with their complementary breakfast. So Jay had stayed with Allie for quite a bit longer than she'd anticipated. Almost three days, actually, which was by far the longest time Jay had stayed with the any driver. But after Nashville, they'd had to say their goodbyes. Jay had been getting a little antsy anyways, but now that Allie was gone, so were the three star hotels, the bacon, and the long, intelligent, and informed rants about women's rights. Jay had let her go on, nodding here at there, but mostly she had enjoyed pushing the noise to the background, fiddling with the bracelet on her right hand and pondering it.

Jay sincerely regretted parting with Allie. So did Charlie, for whom bacon had been packed into a neat paper bag. It had long since run out.

She started as Charlie nuzzled her hand and whined.

"Me too, Charlie, me too." She said, temporarily taking down her thumb to rub her eyes. "But we have to find a hotel. I sure as hell ain't staying out here for another night. It's just creepy."

Charlie gave her a look that said "Jay, I have to sleep outside almost every night, and by God you sleep with a shotgun. What do you have to complain about?"

"Shut up Charlie." Jay scowled and shooed him. "What are you doing up here anyways? Nobody'll stop for sure if you're in plain sight." Jay had long since discovered their chances fared better if drivers were unaware that a dog was involved; when they found out that there were, in fact, two passengers to take, they often felt too guilty to refuse just one more guest. More than once, though, Jay had run across drivers who claimed to be allergic. Lies or no, she didn't exactly have a say in the matter. As for hotels, once in a while Charlie slept outside, but when Jay could get a room on the first floor she snuck him in through the window. Charlie was smart; when he was in a hotel room, he kept his mouth shut. The last thing they needed was to be kicked out of a room that had a bed, toilet and shower.

Charlie barked a short, gruff bark that indicated his displeasure at having to walk such a distance from Jay, but he padded back down the slope and strolled along at the bottom, hidden from the view of unsuspecting passerby. Jay took a moment to twist her bracelet before lifting her arm again.

She made sure her arm was out and her thumb was up, then she resumed her zombie-like state and continued on, trying to conserve as much energy as possible. For this reason, she was barely aware of the black Impala that slowed beside her until the man in the passenger's seat rolled down his window and said "Hey."

Jay's head jerked up as she snapped to attention.

"Need a ride?" the man asked. Jay took a moment to survey him and the driver, who impatiently tapped at the wheel with his thumbs and refused to look in her direction. The idea of stopping for a hitchhiker was certainly not his.

"Yeah," Jay said, observing the man and the driver, who tapped impatiently at the wheel with his thumbs and refused to look in her direction. The idea to stop for a hitchhiker was certainly not his.

"Where you headed?" asked the passenger seat man, ignoring the driver.

Jay looked down the long stretch of highway, pointed and said, "That way."

The passenger seat man shook his head a little a chuckled. "Okay then. Let's go."

Jay knew that, as a young woman, accepting a ride from two grown male strangers was quite the opposite of careful, safe, and smart, but at this point, she could not have cared less. She was tired, her feet were sore, and she would give them a chance to at least reject Charlie (or for Charlie to reject them, as he had previously done with dangerous drivers) before giving up on the first offer she'd had in days.

"Can I just toss my stuff in the back?" Jay asked.

"Go ahead."

"Careful with my seats." growled the driver. The man in the passenger's seat threw him a dirty look. Jay slipped her backpack and sleeping bag off her shoulders and carefully set them on the seat. She stood for a moment by the open door.

"Come on, hop in." the passenger seat man said when Jay paused.

"Um . . . just one more thing," Jay said slowly, "Do you mind dogs?"

The driver finally looked up at her with an expression half of horror and half of disbelief. "_What?_"

Jay whistled. "Charlie!" Charlie came bounding up the hill, panting, and sat happily at Jay's feet. She could see that the mutt was trying to look as presentable as possible, but Charlie was just as dirty and ragged as she was.

"Hell no," said the driver. "_Hell. No."_

"Dean," said the passenger seat man, in a tone that clearly said, _Dude, come on._

Dean the Driver rolled his eyes and grunted. "Fine. Bring the damn dog. But if he pisses in my car you're out on your ass." he added gruffly.

"Awesome," said Jay. "Thanks a lot, guys." Charlie jumped in first, sniffed around, deemed it worthy and moved aside for Jay. She sat down and smoothly shut the door.

"I'm Sam," said Sam the passenger seat man, "This is my brother, Dean."

"Call me Jay. This is Charlie."

Charlie barked as if to confirm this. Dean the Driver seemed irritated, so Jay rubbed Charlie's neck and told him to shush.

"Where are you guys going?" Jay asked.

"Ohio," said Sam.

"Well," Jay sat back, using her rolled-up sleeping bag as a pillow, "I guess I'm going there too. After we get into Ohio, you can just drop me off at the first reasonably-sized town we get to."

"Oh yeah," growled Dean, "Go ahead, get comfortable. I don't mind."

"Pay no attention to this jerk." said Sam. He considered Jay's obvious lack of hygiene, rumpled clothing, and general worn-out vibe. "What kind of dog is that?"

"A mutt," Jay said lovingly, kissing Charlie on the head. "I really don't know. The rancher I got him from said he was part labrador, part Australian blue something . . ."

"Does he bite?" Sam asked, reaching his hand slowly towards Charlie.

"Yes and no," said Jay, and Sam's hand retreated. "Um, I wouldn't try to pet him yet. Maybe if you got to know him better. He's very protective." On cue, Charlie walked onto Jay's lap and lay there, looking up at Sam as if to say _I dare you._ However, he did not growl.

"Any tricks?" Sam asked.

"Yes, does he play dead?" Dean muttered. Jay shot him a glare. Charlie joined her.

"No, no tricks. Not really." said Jay. Then she let out a huge yawn before she could stop herself. It was embarrassingly long. Sam chuckled.

"Go ahead and rest," he said, "We'll warn you before we hit Ohio."

"Thanks," muttered Jay. She had already arranged her backpack into a comfortable pillow and lay back against it, then stretched her legs, so she took up most of the back seat. Charlie found a space half beside her, half on her stomach. She took a blanket, covered herself up to her shoulders and then lay her jacket over her head.

"So why-" but Sam was interrupted by a gentle snore. Jay, whose energy had been spent hours before, was already asleep.

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><p>Dean ran through a mental checklist while Sam tested Jay for everything. Iron, holy water, cameras, mirrors, the works.<p>

"You can't be serious," said Dean, when Sam shook his head again.

"She's clean. Besides, if she were out to get us, _why sleep?_"

"Are you-you gotta be-son of a _bitch_. What. The hell. This is just freakin' perfect." Dean said, when Jay's snores were loud and steady. "We go find a haunted highway and get a _real _hitcher instead? Whose idea was this? How can we do _any_ hunting with her in the back seat? Eh? Tell me, Sam."

"Don't be such a jerk." said Sam. "So I decided we should pick up a real hitcher instead of a monster. Big deal. She's harmless. And Bobby called me back and said some other hunters already took care of the ghost. Besides, the real prize is Ohio, and we won't be doing much until then anyways."

"Oh, really?" Dean countered. "Because last I checked, we are driving through a hot spot of evil activity and the chances that we'll make it through a state without being harassed by some demons or, or, freaking _angels_ are like, one in a million. A million bajillion."

"A million _bajillion_. Really."

"Yes. That's how bad it is. You're lucky I didn't just go with 'zero.'"

"Well what do you want to do?"

"Wake her up. Kick her and her stupid dog out."

"Now? In the middle of the night, really? Dean, that'd be _worse_ than if she were with us and we met something."

Dean grunted. "I'm just saying I don't like it, alright. I just have this bad feeling. We're going to get into some kind of trouble, and she's gonna get involved, and then that's just one more thing we'll have to worry about. Saving her. I don't need another harmless bystander on my conscience, okay?"

Sam couldn't disagree with that. "We'll drop her off, first thing tomorrow morning." he said. Then, at Dean's impatient look, she repeated. "_Morning._"

At this point, Charlie woke up, and Dean was horribly creeped out by his eyes' reflection in the rearview mirror. Sam and Dean spoke no more of Jay-although neither said anything abou it, they both felt like Charlie might've been listening for her.

However, the strange, awkward silence didn't last unbearably long. They made surprisingly good time on the road, and soon stopped by a motel. The night shift worker spoke to Dean through the car window, then sent them to a room on the first floor. Dean pulled the Impala up right in front of their door, turned off the car and patted the dashboard affectionately, not unlike the way Jay had patted Charlie earlier. The brothers looked into the back seat at the same time and were glad to see Charlie had gone back to sleep.

"I guess we could just let her sleep in the car." Sam said doubtfully.

"What if she wakes up in the middle of the night? Or before we wake up in the morning? What if she knows how to hotwire a car?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Look, how about we just-"

But Sam's suggestion was cut off when two demons on either side of the Impala whipped open the front doors, reached in and grabbed a brother each.


	2. Chapter 2: The Rescue!

**Obviously there are some important announcements about the story in chapter one, mainly about how many liberties with the Supernatural story line I take. Go see them. Actually I guess I just said them here, sort of. Never mind.**

**This one's a bit short in comparison to the others. Whoops.**

**Thanks for reading :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Rescue! (-see what I did there?)<strong>

When Jay woke up she was utterly confused. For one thing, she'd forgotten that she'd actually managed to catch some drivers and she had no idea why she was in a car. For another, night had fallen, she had no idea what time it was or how long she'd been asleep, and once she remembered where she was, she realized that the brothers were gone.

It was Charlie who had woken her up. This was something he never did without good reason. He nudged her face until she pushed him away and sat up, dazed. She hadn't slept so deeply in such a long time. Charlie took her hand as gently as possible between his jaws and tugged. _Time to go. _He pulled urgently._ We have to leave!_

"Are they in trouble?" she asked Charlie. "Tell me."

Charlie nodded once very, very reluctantly. Jay retrieved her shotgun from its hiding place and opened the door as quietly as possible. She was already equipped with throwing knives, holy water, and five years' worth of self-taught latin. She left anything that was not a weapon in the car. Jay allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness, then set off to where the racket was coming from. She scolded herself for not noticing such a din, even in her first moments out of the car. Deep sleep? Never again.

Charlie followed her, and together they went silently into the darkness.

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><p>The brothers, Sam and Dean, were getting their asses kicked. There were three grinning men with deadly black eyes throwing them about like ragdolls. Tracks made by invisible paws appeared in the mud as hellhounds circled the brothers and heeled at the men's sides when ordered to. Sam had a nasty bite on his shoulder, and Dean's right shin had been shredded by invisible claws, and both had a pool of blood leaking from their sides. And those, Jay knew, would only be the beginning.<p>

Even if she counted Sam and Dean (and she didn't), Jay was outnumbered. Three demons, at least two hellhounds, and probably one or two more she wasn't quite catching. But surprise and stealth were on her side, and that tipped the odds in her favor.

Jay rubbed Charlie's neck, then pushed him forward. The mutt drew his lips back in a silent snarl, eyes glowing in the moonlight, and slipped silently through the tall grass, circling around.

_Now, we wait._

"Don't much like the doggies, do ya?" snarled one demon in a suit. He shouted a single sharp syllable and three new tears appeared on Dean's chest. They didn't look incredibly deep to Jay, but they bled freely and Dean did not bother suppressing a scream.

"Enough playing," said another demon, this one in jeans. "He's useless. Have the big one rip out his throat."

"NO!" Sam roared. They were utterly helpless, and the invisible footprints approaching Dean might have been the (second) end of him if an entirely visible dog had not leapt forward from the bushes and wrestled the hellhound to the ground.

Hounds may be invisible, but their blood is not.

"What the-" Jay had the suit demon down and out before he joined his pet on the ground. Her throws were silent, and usually dead-on. Her second knife hit the jeans demon in the chest, and the third one went down just as easy. Charlie had taken out a second hellhound and was fighting a third, but a fourth set of unchallenged prints appeared in the mud and Jay screamed "CHARLIE!" before releasing her last, precious throwing knife, unsure if it would reach its target.

Luck appeared to be on her side tonight.

_Except, you know_, she thought_, for the demons showing up at all_.

Jay rose from her hiding place in the tall grass and ran towards her beloved dog to make sure he was all right. Besides being covered in blood and having a few minor scratches, he was a-ok. Jay hugged him. "Good boy. Yes, yes you are. Go wait for me at the car. You're such a good boy. Good boy." Jay sent him off, hoping he'd find something to clean up and thinking she'd get him treats later.

She moved towards Sam and Dean, who were lying on the ground not only in pain but shock as well, and was about to ask if they were okay when they both cried out wordless warnings and she felt herself lifted off her feet.

"Thought you could just take us out like that?" a demon growled, "We can sneak, too."

Jay gasped. He was squeezing the air out of her. She was going to deflate like a sad balloon. One arm was pinned behind her back, and the other had dropped its knife in her surprise and she cursed herself upon realizing this._ Stupid, stupid, stupid. Never let go of your weapons. Luckily I have extras._ Spots were clouding her vision now. She groped blindly inside her jacket for another knife, hoping, praying, that it was there, and her fingers found the handle and grasped it as best they could. She thought she felt the knife sliding from her hand and held on for dear life, then brought it around her side and stabbed randomly at the body behind her. She was only vaguely aware that they were now both tipping backwards, the arms tightening momentarily and then-release. Jay fell to the ground wheezing, rolled over on her back and took in all the sweet oxygen she could with each breath.

The knife had hit its mark, for the demon's side was bloody and cut to ribbons. None of the stabbing had been fatal, however; it was Charlie who had rescued her, and now he sat next to her, whining. He had jumped onto the demon's back, bit into his shirt and hung there, clawing for all he was worth. And it was not all his doing, either. Jay dragged herself over to examine the body, and there, clear as the moon was tonight, was a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. She turned to look at the brothers.

Yup. Dean was laying a few yards from where she'd last seen him, holding a gun in his hand. He craned his neck from his resting position so he could just see her, as if checking if he had been in time.

Despite having an alarming lack of air, Jay could not resist.

"Nice . . . shot." she managed. Dean nodded, and they both fell back.


	3. Chapter 3: Hospital

**Chapter Three: Hospital**

Dean awoke in a hospital, which was becoming something of a habit these days. He wiggled to check if all of him was there. Head, shoulders, knees, toes. Everything seemed in order, granted most of him hurt like a bitch. He was hooked up to some machines, and, upon further investigation, so was Sam.

"Hey." said Sam, who was sitting up in his bed. He looked as if he'd been waiting a while. "How's everything?"

"Well it's _there_." groaned Dean, pushing himself up into a sitting position as well. "And Jesus, can I _feel _it."

Sam snorted, then clutched his stomach. "I know what you mean." he said. "Last thing you remember?"

"Shooting that demon." Dean grunted. "That kid."

"I only got up to the hellhounds being taken out." said Sam. "She's been in here, you know. Jay. She was here when I woke up, and then she left, came back with food and left again. I get the feeling she thinks she's responsible."

Dean gave Sam an incredulous look. "_Why?_" Sam shrugged.

"From what I gather, we were attacked last night, got in here around two or three in the morning. I woke up around noon. As for you" Sam glanced at the clock, "Five."

Dean seemed to think it was a contest. "Yeah, well, I had my stomach nearly torn out, so shut up."

Sam gave him a look._ Really, dude?_

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><p>Jay chose this pause in speech to walk in. Her wrist was in a soft cast and splint, but she was holding a bouquet of flowers in her good hand. They had been ever so carefully arranged and wrapped by a florist who'd believed she was going to see her fiance.<p>

"Hi," she said awkwardly. She stood between the two beds, both brothers looking up at her expectantly. She was extremely annoyed that they, sitting in hospital beds, were almost as tall as she was standing up. "I, um, don't know if you'll want these."

Dean reached over and plucked out the white card hidden between daises. "'To my beloved Charlie. Hope you get better soon!' Why, thanks. I had no idea I meant so much to you."

"Shut your face," Jay said, rolling her eyes. "I felt like I had to get you something, you know, after you got attacked."

"Who the hell is Charlie?" asked Dean.

"My more important dog, neanderthal." said Jay. She put a hand to her forehead. "Sorry, I just . . . anyways, but, um yeah. I'm sorry about everything."

Sam straightened in his bed, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder and said, "Sorry? Why? You saved our asses."

"Yeah . . ." Jay muttered, "But it's sort of my fault you were in the mess." She kept her eyes on the flowers, moving them around for no apparent reason. "They've been following me since I was little, and I can't get rid of them. They're just _there_, everywhere I go. I shouldn't have ridden with you, I just got careless because there was this other driver who was safe, for like, three days and nothing happened so I thought it would be safe, but I keep forgetting, I thought it would be okay, I mean, I got tattoos and runes when I was like, ten, it was so difficult, but I just wasn't careful and now. . ." she trailed off.

Sam and Dean stared at her. Hard.

"What." said Dean.

"Look," Jay finally put down her distraction of a bouquet and rubbed her temples, "I know you guys know about demons, because you handled the situation pretty well back there and you're not saying things like 'Why do you carry knives?' and 'You're dog is vicious.' I don't know if you just happen to know about them, or what, but what I'm trying to say is, _I_ am probably the reason they were there, and I'm apologizing for it. It was just a coincidence that you happen to know about them, that has nothing-"

"Hold on just a damn minute," said Dean, waving away her words. "You think they were after you?"

Jay gave him a look of disbelief. "Seriously? Have you been listening to _nothing_ I've said?"

"Why?" Dean demanded.

"Why _what?_" Jay asked, sounding equally frustrated.

"Why do you think they're following you?"

Jay glared at him, placing her hands on her hips. "None of your business, _Dean_."

Sam decided to intervene before they started attracting too much attention. "Forget it," he said. "What names did you put us under?"

"Sam and Dean. Smith." said Jay.

"Quite the imagination there." Dean muttered.

"Well I just didn't think your tiny brain could handle anything more elaborate," Jay snapped.

"Enough." Sam said. "Do you know where our stuff is?"

"Oh." Jay dug into her jacket pockets and pulled out keys, two cell phones, a wallet, some loose change, and a lighter. "I called an ambulance because I couldn't move you guys on my own, and I put the bill on one of your credit cards" she raised an eyebrow to show she knew it was fake "and I put guns and stuff in the trunk before they got you. I parked it in the closest space possible, shouldn't be too hard to walk to."

Upon hearing how well they had been attended to, Dean spluttered in rage.

"You _drove-_you-you-my-"

"Thanks." said Sam loudly.

Jay nodded once. "You guys seem to be doing well, so . . ." she shrugged.

"You're not leaving?" Sam asked, surprised.

"And I thought you were the smart one," said Jay. "Come on. Demons? Following me? Remember anything I said two minutes ago?"

"Why didn't you tell us you were a hunter?" Dean asked. Jay wondered if he had simply pushed the idea of a stranger driving the Impala to the back of his mind.

"That is the dumbest question I have ever heard." Jay said, glaring, "'Oh hey guys, I'm just going to hitch a ride in your car, and did I mention my dog has been trained to hunt and kill and I carry knives and holy water with me?' And I'm not a 'hunter'" she used air quotes "whatever you think that means. What I do is self defense, okay? I don't go looking for trouble."

"You seem pretty adept at handling it, though," Dean pointed out skeptically. Jay was about to retort when she realized it was, basically, a compliment.

"What he means is thank you." said Sam. "You didn't have to help us. You could've just driven off in the Impala. _And_ before we get any further in the conversation, let me just say that those demons were looking for us. Us, specifically. All right? It's nothing new to us. So technically it wasn't even your fault, and you _still_ helped us out. Trust me. If they were looking for you, they would have found you in the back seat under all that stuff."

Jay thought about this, and found herself wondering the same thing Dean had about her. Why? Why were demons after these guys, too? Could it be the same reason? It was best, though, not to push it any further. "Well . . . even if I wasn't a part of it, I couldn't have just left you guys there. No. Especially not after you were nice enough to pick me and Charlie up off the side of the road, you know?"

Sam gave his brother a smug look. "Yes, wasn't it just a wonderful idea for us to pick you up and give you a ride, wasn't it? Wasn't it, Dean?"

Dean turned to Jay. "Don't know what he's talking about. Being kind to hitchhikers? Totally my idea. Practically had to twist his arm to offer you a ride."

Jay gave a weak chuckle.

"How's your wrist?" asked Sam, nodding at the soft cast.

"What, this?" Jay held up her arm. "It's nothing. I sprained my wrist when I fell on it. Nothing compared to you guys."

There was a short silence, and Jay took a step back. "You guys look good to go. I'm headed out."

"Whoa, whoa, you're leaving?" Dean asked.

"Uh, _yeah_," Jay said. "You think I'm going to stick with you guys, get you into more accidents? _And_ possibly double my chances of demon attacks? I don't think so. I'm out of here."

Then Dean said something that surprised her. "Can we at least get a proper introduction before we part ways?" It seemed like such a cheesy line for him, but there he was, holding out his right hand for a handshake with an earnest look on his face.

Jay looked at him, then at her hands, as if questioning them. "Sure?" She reached out her right hand, which did not have a soft cast, and shook Dean's.

"Hi. I'm Dean Winchester." he said.

"Hi, I'm Jay."

"What! I gave you my whole name. The real one! Seriously!"

Jay grinned, "Nice meeting you, Dean Winchester. I hope I never see you again." they were still shaking hands. "Now let go."

Dean did as he was told, but not without a verbal fight. "Hey! You've got a few things to explain before you leave."

A nurse in scrubs walked in, saw that Sam and Dean were awake and produced a checklist and a pen out of nowhere.

Jay did not pause on her way out. "Things to explain? Look who's talking. Nurse, get these boys' information _stat_."

The nurse gave her a quick look of surprise, then chuckled.

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><p>After the nurse was done interrogating them, Dean retrieved his cell phone from the nightstand where Jay had placed it. He dialed a number.<p>

"I already called Bobby," said Sam. Dean shushed him. Then, after nobody answered, he put the phone down. "Dammit, Cas, pick up your phone!"

"I called Cas, too." said Sam. "And prayed for him. Everything."

"At this rate, we'll never get out of this place." Dean muttered.

"Relax." said Sam. "You know he'll answer sometime."

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><p>Sometime was mid-morning the next day.<p>

"Cas? Awesome. We need you."

Sam heard Cas's phone-distorted voice. "Where are you?"

"Great Vale Hospital. Arsburg, Kentucky. Room . . . ah, one fourteen."

Dean hung up the phone, placed it on the nightstand, and when he looked up, Castiel standing in front of them, looking quizzical.

"You are in extremely poor condition." he said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." said Dean. "Fix us up, will you? We have to get out of this place, fast. I hate hospitals."

Castiel stood between them, then touched their foreheads simultaneously. Sam and Dean felt and unpleasant rush of queasiness and stomachache-like pains wash over them, and then, suddenly, they were standing in the parking lot in front of the Impala, good as new.

"Thanks, Cas," said Sam. He started to open the shotgun door but Dean pushed it shut.

"We're not going anywhere just yet." He held up a thin, bronze band with some nondescript markings on the side. "Can you find the person who wore this?"

"You _stole_ that from her? Dean!" Sam protested. It took him a moment, but he recognized it as the bracelet Jay wore.

"I am not a dog." Castiel said. It was almost a joke. "Perhaps if you told me their name." Dean shook his head. "No? Well, I can try. But the chances are slim. The object has to be important to them in some way. Symbolic, almost."

"Will you just try it?" said Dean. "She shouldn't be too far. It hasn't even been a full day!" Cas looked at the bracelet and sighed. Then he took it gingerly in his hands, and both Sam and Dean were surprised at his look of shock.

"Where did you get this?" It was as close to demanding as the angel could get. Sam and Dean looked at each other. It had been a while since Cas had looked so serious. Well, more serious than normal, anyways.

"A girl," said Dean, taken aback. "A hitchhiker. We were ambushed by some demons and she helped us out."

"Is she a hunter?" Castiel asked.

"She . . . knows her way around the field." Sam explained.

"This is not a coincidence." Cas said. "It is best if we gather somewhere more private. I will bring the girl. I will call."

"I don't think-" Sam began, but Cas had gone.

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><p><strong>I realize Castiel was fallen and couldn't heal Sam or Dean. WHOOPS. Not really, I'm just changing things up.<strong>

**Thanks for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4: Introductions

**Chapter Four: Introductions**

"Way to go, dude," said Sam, "Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to take her bracelet, huh?" They had driven to the next town, and were pacing around a first-floor motel room.

"I was just curious!" Dean said defensively. "I mean, as far as hunters go, everybody's got their stories, but seriously. Hitchhiker? That just seems sort of dramatic."

"Just because you love your car more than humanity itself doesn't mean everybody's got transportation. She looked like a college kid! Obviously she didn't have enough money for one. _I _didn't."

"No car, but she has a dog?"

"A dog that hunts hellhounds and can _clearly_ take care of itself. I mean, what did you _think_ was gonna happen when you gave Cas a bracelet and said 'Go find this person?' Did you think he'd just blow us off?"

"He might have." Dean interjected. Sam ignored him.

"Now she's going to be visited by an insane man in a trench coat, get transported to our . . . what, shabby motel room and see us again? You think she'd be happy about that? She's going to freak out. Who _wouldn't?_"

"Look, I didn't know Cas was going to go crazy over some random chick we met on the highway, alright?" Dean said. "Just relax. If anything, we can just send her back to where he picked her up, have Cas wipe the whole thing. Boom. What will be, at worst, an awkward moment, has already been solved."

Sam gave him a look of disapproval. "You're getting too used to this angel thing, Dean. We can't just ask Cas to solve all our problems."

"I agree." said Castiel. He had materialized by the door.

"Well, where is she?" Dean asked.

"She is at a park a few blocks from here." said Cas. "She said she would feel more comfortable discussing matters there, rather than inside."

"She would - you talked to her?" said Dean.

Castiel gave him a questioning look. "Of course. I introduced myself. I have to explain the current situation to all of you, but we should all speak together."

And with that, he stepped forward, touched their foreheads in unison, and they were off.

* * *

><p>After the scrape with the demons, Jay did not want to be separated from Charlie any more than she had to. She ordered take-out from a diner, then ate her lunch outside in the shade of a large tree. The combination of the beautiful weather, a full stomach and a pleasant, snoozing dog put Jay at peace, a state which she was not regularly in. Even when she was asleep, she was plagued by nightmares; some where of past experiences, and some she supposed just popped out of a morbid imagination. She hated those.<p>

It was at the peaceful moment when Jay sat back down after throwing away her trash that a man in an unkempt suit and trench coat appeared. Charlie awoke immediately and began a low, sustained growl.

"This is yours, correct?" The man crouched before her and held out her bronze bracelet between two fingers. Jay checked her wrist to ensure that it was gone, then stared at the bracelet, gaping.

"Oh my - thank you!" she tried not to snatch it back too eagerly. "I can't believe I lost this, I - thank you so much."

The man did not give any sort of smile, or acknowledgement of her thanks. He looked serious. Grave. "My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord. I must speak to you."

Jay did not know how to respond. She didn't want to be rude, because he had just returned her bracelet, and she thought the man might be insane. She wondered if there was a mental hospital nearby that had lost him.

"We thought you had been lost forever," said Castiel, Angel of the Lord. He turned his attention to Charlie the Dog. "At least you have a guardian."

Jay looked at Charlie. Charlie stopped growling and looked at Castiel, tilting his head. Then Charlie did something Jay had never seen him, or any dog, do. He sat on his haunches in front of Castiel, put one paw on his chest, and _bowed_. Then he reached out his paw, and Castiel, Angel of the Lord, shook it. "I am very pleased that you have been so attentive. What shall I call you?"

Charlie barked twice. Jay had the distinct impression he was responding.

"Charles. Yes, I thought you might have become attached. Do not be nervous. You will be allowed to stay with her." Charlie barked again, indignantly, as if to say _I would have anyways._

This was when Jay decided that it was her, and not the man, that was insane.

Castiel looked at her again, searchingly. "I see that I have much to explain."

"Understatement," Jay squeaked.

* * *

><p>Jay was waiting beneath a different tree at a different park in a different town. She refused to sit on the clean wooden bench and chose, instead, to sit on the ground next to it. Although Charlie, who weighed fifty or so pounds, was too big to be a lap dog, he still tried his best to curl up on Jay's crossed legs.<p>

Jay held Charlie's face in her hands and looked into his big brown eyes.

"Can you talk?" she asked seriously. Charlie just stared at her and panted. It looked like he was smiling. "Can you tell me? Hm? Can you read minds? What am I thinking right now? Okay, if I think 'peanut butter' you raise your right paw, and if I think 'jelly' raise the left." Charlie gave her a confused look, and did not raise either paw when she though _JELLY_ as hard as she could. "Are you a dog? _Really_ a dog?" she asked. Charlie stopped panting and continued to smile. "I'm going to put you in a pound if you don't answer me, bud." This, at least, received a whine and pleading puppy eyes. "Okay, I'd never do that. C'mere." The mutt lay across her lap again, stilling grinning, and let Jay scratch his ears absentmindedly.

Jay was musing over the strange events of the past few days. She wondered how many drivers had been hunters without her knowing. There had been a few, of course, who had been dragged into the mess, and in the end they had been all right (save for some horrific memories). None of the ones who had been attacked with her had been hunters. They'd just been innocent bystanders. Jay liked to think of them as "civilians" but she supposed in a legal sense, most hunters were civilians. She wondered why Sam and Dean thought demons were after them. _He's useless_, one of them had said, about Dean, she guessed. So perhaps it was just Sam that they wanted. Perhaps he was like her.

"I have returned." Castiel spoke suddenly, and Jay flinched backwards, disturbing Charlie.

"Hey, we're back too." Dean grinned.

"Hi." Sam was obviously disgruntled. Jay wondered if it was because of her.

"What do they have to do with anything?" she asked.

"Hey now," said Dean.

"Sit." said Castiel. He sat in front on Jay, legs crossed and hands on his knees. She suddenly imagined them all sitting around a campfire, with Castiel, Angel of the Lord, telling them an ancient Native American myth.

Sam and Dean, a tad put off, sat down cross-legged as well.

"Sam, Dean, please tell Jay everything that has happened thus far, beginning with Dean's return from Hell."

Sam, Dean, and Jay all looked at Castiel in surprise.

"What, _everything_ everything?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I thought you said 'return from Hell.'" Jay said.

"Yes, I said that." said Castiel. "Sam, Dean, please begin."

Jay from them to Castiel, Sam and Dean looked at each other, and Charlie and Cas seemed to be having some silent conversation.

Sam began. "It's a long story."

And it was.

* * *

><p>The sun was setting when they finished. Jay didn't know if she should applaud, but she certainly felt like it. She had listened with a sort of distance, as if she were listening to a storybook instead of a firsthand account, and her logic screamed at her that the whole thing was stupid, why was she still there, none of this was real. She also wanted very, very badly to believe every single word. And the strangest thing of all was that she could feel the logic part, which usually won out, being drowned by the part of her that wanted to believe.<p>

_I do believe in faeries,_ she thought, and had to suppress a mad giggle.

"So you started the Apocalypse." she said distantly. "You're Michael and Lucifer's vessels, angels are the bad guys too, you've come back to life multiple times, and the four horsemen of the apocalypse are currently running amuck. And Famine's in a wheelchair?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "I know it sounds crazy," said Sam.

"No," said Jay, "I believe you." And somewhere, deep inside, her logic stepped into a metaphorical grave and buried itself, leaving her without a sliver of doubt. "But what does this have to do with me?"

"You are the Grail." said Castiel without hesitation. Jay jumped. She had forgotten he was there.

"I - I beg your pardon?"

"The Grail." he repeated. "The Holy Grail."

Jay's logic rose from its grave. "I am not a piece of dinnerware," she said bluntly.

"No." Cas agreed. "No longer. I have no doubt that someone hid you in this form. A clever idea. Hidden in plain sight. The angels never would have guessed. They are lacking in imagination, you must remember."

"Now wait just a second," said Jay, "How is that even possible? What? Is it, like, inside me?" she felt at her stomach, alarmed.

"No. In a way." said Cas. "Rather, it _is_ you. The core of your being. But it is . . . hidden."

"You mean, metaphorically?" Jay asked, "What, someone proves themselves and I suddenly turn into a dish?"

"It's difficult for me to determine." said Cas, "But no matter. It's only important that we . . . that I . . . have found you before the others." And much to Sam and Dean's surprise, Castiel smiled.

"_We_ found her," said Dean, pointing to himself and Sam.

"I was thinking and speaking as an angel of the Lord." Castiel said, grave again. "As a servant of God. Not an individual. But . . ."

_But then you corrected yourself, _Jay thought sadly. Dean had not omitted Castiel's part in their story, and she thought it was one of the most depressing parts. Life had to suck for fallen angels. Well, maybe not all of them.

"So, what, we keep her around and get to live forever? Sounds like a plan." Dean interrupted. Jay glared.

Castiel shook his head. "No, we can't fully access the Grail's power. Not in this state. Although, it seems to give off some sort of power that others can sense. Undoubtedly, the demons that you've met have felt pressed to attack because you're such a powerful source of energy."

"They can tell?" Sam asked.

"Not on a conscious level, or we'd be swarmed where we sit." said Castiel. "Beings must make contact in some way. Sometimes just a glimpse is enough to prompt an attack. Sometimes physical contact is needed."

"Demons can use the Holy Grail?" Dean asked. "That's just . . . _wrong_."

"The details are very muddled." Castiel said. "In any case, both the angels and demons are desperate for any type of power, so you can see why the Grail would be a target for them."

"So . . . what was that you said about Charlie? Being my guardian?" Jay asked suddenly.

Castiel looked at Charlie. "Physically, he is a normal dog. But he seems unusually intelligent, as well as unusually strong. I think it must be your doing. Unknowingly, of course. He's simply grown up around you. And, of course, he feels compelled to protect you. Both because he is a dog and because living beings inevitably feel an attraction to you."

Dean stretched conspicuously and put his arm around Jay's shoulders. She pushed it off, but found herself chuckling. The wind picked up and moved through Jay's thin layers like a bucket of cold water.

"I'm freezing," she said, "Can we go inside?"

"Certainly."

Jay heard the second half of that word as she was sitting in the same position on a springy bed in cheap motel room. "Cool." she grinned. She still wasn't used to Cas moving her around, but it sure beat hitchhiking. "Now, let's get down to business. Am I a person, or what?"

"You have a soul and a human body, if that's what you mean." Castiel replied. "As for your condition . . . it's like nothing I've ever seen before." He scowled suddenly. "I may have an idea . . . I'll be back." Then, he was gone.

"Does it ever get annoying?" Jay asked. "Him just coming and going like that?"

"You have no idea." Dean rolled his eyes. "It's like-"

"Come with me." Cas reappeared, took Jay by the arm, then disappeared again.

"Son of a bitch."

* * *

><p>Jay fell to the floor, dazed. Her head was throbbing, and there was an unpleasant, high-pitched ringing in her ears. She rested her head in her hands, but had to let go when someone took her arm and pulled her upright.<p>

"Hello, darling." It was someone . . . new?

Jay's vision finally cleared, and she saw a man with short, blonde hair and striking blue eyes. He took her chin in one hand and lifted her face.

"Still beautiful. I love it when I'm right." The hand was tugged away, probably by Castiel, and when he spoke, he was impatient.

"What have you done? The Grail is an extremely precious-"

"Oh, yes, very important blah blah blah. At least I didn't trade it away like some of the others. I'm _protecting _it. Look, I've given it its very own self-defense system. The best kind there is! . . . Sort of."

There was a name, there, on the tip of her tongue . . . she opened her mouth to say it, unsure of what would come out. "Balthazar?"

Balthazar seemed utterly delighted. "You _remember_. You've no idea how much that pleases me. Now, tell me, how old do you think you are?"

"Twenty two." she said, automatically.

"Well, you're a hundred or so years off, but who's counting?" Balthazar said. He turned to Cas. "And nobody's got the grail from her. They don't know how, and she's too tough anyways. Aren't you?"

Jay frowned. "Wait a minute. I don't _know_ you."

"Oh, yes, of course," Balthazar put down the champagne flute and took one of Jay's limp hands and shook it. "I'm Balthazar. The one who, you know, _put _you this way."

"You put the Holy Grail inside me?" Jay asked blankly.

"Well, no, that's a very poor choice of words, really. It's more like I _merged_ you together. And now you've sort of . . . absorbed it." He gestured at her general figure. "You had trouble with it at first, sure, but look at you now! Perfectly healthy, still as young as the day I picked you out of all humanity to hold and protect one of heaven's great treasures. I had to travel back in time just to steal it at the right moment. Do you realize how difficult that is?"

Something clicked. In an instant, a flood of memories flashed before her eyes. There was Balthazar, whose clothing had been so strange to her at the time, and he was weak, bleeding, unconscious . . . side effects of time travel, she now realized. She was taking turns with two other girls in taking care of him. They had all been amazed at his speedy two-day recovery.

As if moving of its own accord, Jay's arm lashed out and slapped Balthazar across the face. She realized it couldn't hurt much, but was still satisfied at the look of surprise.

"What the _hell_ is your problem, huh?" she demanded. "What have I ever done to you? I _helped_ you. And - and - even if I don't remember _all_ of it, I still remember what's been happening recently, and if _that's_ any example of how things have been, well-" and this time she punched him. Since he was a bit taller than her, it turned into a semi-uppercut, catching him on the jaw and snapping his head back. This, too, was satisfying, if not entirely effective in causing pain.

"Enough." said Castiel. "There's no time for this."

"Yes, it's all in the past!" Balthazar said defensively.

"You have to _fix_ this." Castiel demanded.

"I beg your pardon?" Balthazar raised an eyebrow.

"Separate. . . ! ME! US!" Jay yelled.

"Or tell me how." Castiel said.

Balthazar looked from Cas to Jay, and considered them carefully. "Ah, how do I say this? Oh, right - _no._"

And he was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Guh. I can't even remember if Balthazar was around then, but I don't think he was, but it doesn't matter, because as I said before, I'm switching up the timeline and plotline and things like that. Excuse me while I go derp around some more.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5: Ohio Opera

**Huzzah! My very own Sam/Dean/Jay adventure time! There will be more of this episode-like stuff later, as well.**

**Thanks for reading :D**

**Chapter Five: Ohio Opera**

Jay had to wait a while in Balthazar's ex-living quarters alone while Castiel tried to train him down. Cas returned thirty minutes later, looking as tired as an angel could.

"I lost him," he lamented. "I'm apologize."

"It's okay." said Jay. It was okay that Castiel had failed, because he had tried, at least. It was not okay that she still had a Holy Grail attached to her in some freaky pseudo-cosmic way.

Jay and Cas returned to the motel room. Upon their arrival, a lamp flickered but continued burning with its usual brightness, and Charlie would not stop jumped up until Jay knelt next to him and let him lick her face.

"Where have you _been_?" Sam asked, "We were worried."

"It's been, like, an hour." said Jay. "And we went to see Balthazar."

Dean's face changed from questioning to enraged as the puzzle blocks fit together in his head. "He _would_, the bastard. Remember that Moses stick?" Sam nodded grimly.

"I'll try to track him down," said Castiel, "But it won't be easy. You have to know that."

"Course." said Jay

"In the meantime," Castiel gestured at the brothers. "She's in your care." And he was gone.

Jay said, "I'm staring to hate angels."

Sam sighed. "I know what you mean."

It was hard for Jay to explain to Sam and Dean exactly what Balthazar had done, because she wasn't entirely sure herself. They got the gist of it, though, which was that for now, she stuck with being the Holy Grail, or something. And since Cas had dumped her on them, they were stuck with her.

* * *

><p>"I can<em>not<em> believe our luck," Dean grunted as the three of them ate greasy fast food. "We've already been chosen to be puppets for complete dicks, and we find _another_ person who's being hunted as much if not more, and when it turns out they're the Holy freaking Grail they can't even _do_ anything."

"Sorry for the _inconvenience_, your highness" Jay replied sulkily, "Would you like some cheese with that whine?"

"And she's snarky to boot." said Dean.

Sam chose to ignore both of them. "Okay, guys. The town seems pretty clean up to this point. No disappearances or murders outside of the ordinary." he sighed, "So we haven't really gotten any clues."

"So we've got Gatkis, Franco, Shay, Wilkes," Jay tickedthem off on her fingers. "Ronan, Evering, Teller, and Quitton. All in the past . . . what, two and a half weeks? Did I miss anybody?"

"Campton," said Sam.

"What? You've never mentioned a Campton," said Jay.

"It's a recent thing." Sam said grimly. He folded yesterday's newspaper in his lap and showed them the article he'd been reading. The headline was **"Civil Engineer Discovered Dead in Worksite."**

Jay took the newspaper and read outloud, "Harris Campton was found dead at the construction site of the Tippe Opera House. The opera house, more than 130 years old, was purchased from the city by an anonymous buyer. The rights to the house came with a contract stating that any private owner must pay for renovations on the opera house and complete renovations within three years of purchase. The renovation was to be overseen by city appointed architects, engineers and construction workers. Campton was hired to replace one of the civil engineers, Elroy Franco, who went missing earlier in the week. Police reports have not yet revealed time or cause of death."

Jay and Sam looked at each other as Dean took the newspaper to read the rest of the article.

"Franco and Campton are civil engineers," said Jay, "Shay, Wilkes and Teller were architects. Gatkis, Ronan, Evering, Quitton were the construction workers."

"So who's getting pissed about the renovations?" Sam asked.

"We'd better check the body," said Dean.

"There's three that were found," said Jay. "Including Campton. The other two were Quitton and Gatkis, the construction workers. The newspapers said it was because of the 'dangerous environment.' Whatever that means."

"What are you, a walking encyclopedia?" Dean said, "How do you remember all this stuff? I couldn't even get all the names of the dead guys."

Jay tapped the side of her head. "Elementary, my dear Winchester."

* * *

><p>Dean wanted to leave Jay back at the hotel, but she refused to stay behind.<p>

"You don't have a fake ID! You don't have _anything!_" Dean protested, "We can't just walk in and say 'We're detectives Moulder and Scully, this is our young friend who happens to have no identification or authorization at all."

Jay whipped out her wallet and held out two plastic cards. One was a driver's license for the state of Wisconsin under the name "Amber B. Kelly," another was a medical student ID for College of New York. Then she pulled out a shiny fake police badge.

"The names don't match," Dean grunted. Jay searched through her purse for some more IDs.

"And you said you weren't a hunter," Sam chuckled. She at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed on that one.

"Where's the fun in letting monsters go all the time?" she muttered. "Plus, I've had to go to hospitals too, you know."

Dean looked extremely miffed at this. "_Hospitals_? You're the _Holy Grail!_ What is the _point_ of you?"

"The Holy Grail is irrelevant!" said Jay, thinking it was the oddest thing she'd ever said. "I can still get hurt! The point is, I'm qualified to go" she shook the IDs in front of Dean's face, "and I'm _going_ to go!"

"No way." said Dean, "No, no, no."

* * *

><p>"Hello, sir. I'm detective Smith and this is detective Carson." Dean indicated himself and Sam, then paused while Dr. Pierce gave Jay and curious look.<p>

"And her?" asked Dr. Pierce.

"I'm Amber Kelly," Jay piped up.

"She's a med student from New York," said Sam, "She'll be accompanying us."

All three of them showed some sort of fake ID and their visitors' passes to the doctor, who seemed satisfied.

"Alright then. What can I do for you?"

"We need to look at Gatkis, Quitton and Campton." said Dean. "Have you done the autopsy's yet?"

"Gatkis and Quitton were done quite a while ago," said Dr. Pierce, "Campton's is this afternoon."

"What was the verdict on the other two?" asked Jay. Dr. Pierce looked at her with disapproval.

"_Why_ are you with a police investigation?"

"I'm training to be a medical officer," said Jay, equally venomous, "So I can check up on dead people before hospitals make stupid errors on their autopsies."

"Excuse her, doctor," said Sam, looking at Jay like she was insane. "She's, uh. . ."

"It's an involuntary pairing," said Dean. "She was supposed to be assigned to a different officer, but she's stuck with us instead." Dr. Pierce seemed to approve of his overly annoyed tone of voice, at least.

"And now I have to learn from _this_ amateur," said Jay, gesturing at Dean, "And I only get three credits for this, can you believe it?" Dr. Pierce and Dean gave her twin glares, while Sam put a hand to his forehead.

"Please bring us to the morgue, doctor." said Sam.

Dr. Pierce led them to the morgue and pulled Gatkis's body from one of the shelves and set it out for Sam and Dean to check. Jay, being only a lowly med student, was not allowed to touch anything. After explaining the condition of Gatkis's body and informing them that it appeared he'd died of suffocation or some type of poisoning, Dr. Pierce left, giving Jay one last glare over his shoulder as he did.

"What the _hell_ was that?" hissed Dean, while Sam checked to see if Pierce had really gone. "You can't be that _rude_ to a doctor who could call the cops on us!"

"Whatever," said Jay, "I bet they get annoying med students all the time. Besides, _he_ started it. All I wanted was a simple answer."

"You shouldn't have done that," Sam agreed. "It's too risky as it is."

"Oh boo hoo." Jay rolled her eyes, "You guys are just getting antsy because you think I'm too young to be here."

"You _are_ too young to be here." said Dean. "What are you, eighteen? No pre-med kid goes off to be a medical officer their freshman year."

"And you would know, because you have _so_ much college experience," said Jay pointedly. "Also, I'm twenty-two. _Also, _I'm technically older than both of you. _Combined_."

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"She has a point," said Sam.

"Yeah, but you can't remember anything," said Dean, "It's still pretty much like being twenty-two."

"Quit using the scalpel, you're going to mangle everything," said Jay. She handed Dean the scissors. "These are much better." Dean looked from the scalpel in his hand to the scissors in her. Then he ignored the scissors and went about cutting and moving things with the scalpel until he accidentally cut too far and something spurted into his face. Jay managed to dodge the flying fluids by ducking behind Sam.

"Get it off," said Dean, barely opening his mouth so nothing could drip inside. Sam went for the paper towels by the sink. Jay took the scalpel from Dean's hand so he could wipe his face.

"Told you so," she said.

"Shut up," he muttered, but used the scissors for the rest of their visit.

It was Sam who spotted the ectoplasm, which clung to the bottom half of Gatkis's ribcage.

"Ghost," Sam said, lifting some of the ectoplasm off. "A physical one. I guess its been taking out the renovators of the opera house."

* * *

><p>The Tippe Opera House, in Plasting, Ohio, was built in 1866. It was the architectural genius of its kind, built to accommodate 900 viewers and to carry an opera singer's voice all the way to the back row, and the rafters above. It attracted audiences all over Ohio and neighboring states, and even hosted an important foreign ambassador once. Comedies, tragedies, musicals, lectures, and, of course, operas, were presented all the way up until 1912, when the theater was closed down to performances and was instead converted into a type of recreation center. It was open to basketball games, high school dances, and was once flooded and frozen for a makeshift ice skating rink. During this time, one of the great crystal chandeliers dropped from the ceiling, killing one and injuring two. After one of the floorboards above the orchestra pit fell through, causing a broken leg, the theater was closed down for good. It remains as a historic site for visitors, but none are allowed on the inside.<p>

"Cool," said Jay, looking up from her brochure. "It _would_ be awesome if they could renovate it. I bet they'd have Broadway shows here. It would liven the place up a bit." Plasting was not exactly the talk of the state.

Dean snorted, "Theater geek," he said. He'd tossed his own brochure into a garbage can down the street.

"Honorary thespian," Jay said, defensively. She put the brochure in her bag. Sam and Dean were still dressed as detectives, but Jay had dressed in her more usual outfit, which was just a T-shirt and jeans. Sam, at least, was going to try and convince the architects to let her in, but she doubted Dean would go along with it. When they introduced themselves to the architect, Andy, as detectives, Sam also mentioned that Jay was their med student trainee, and that, although this part of the investigation had nothing to do with her college credits, she was still a theater fan.

Andy shook his head, "Sorry, kid," he said, "But only us and police officers are allowed inside. I can't let you wander freely."

Sam and Dean returned from their tour/investigation of the Opera House with grim looks.

"You look like you had fun," said Jay, sulkily. Charlie sat next to her on the curb, tethered to a lamp post. It was more to assure passerby than to keep him from running off.

"We think it's the old owner of the place," said Sam. "Apparently, the day it officially closed down to theater troupes he committed suicide. Hung himself right over the stage."

"So he's been haunting the place?" asked Jay.

"Seems like it." said Sam, "Andy said that they were trying to keep part of it historical, but they also wanted to make a movie theater out of it. That would piss him off."

Jay wondered why nobody had made the joke yet. She decided it was high time.

"Phantom of the Opera," she and Dean said in unison.

* * *

><p><strong>AND THEN THEY ALL DIED. The End.<strong>

**Just kidding.**

**;)**


	6. Chapter 6: The Phantom

**Chapter 6: The Phantom**

"Rock salt?"

"Check."

"Gasoline?"

"Check."

"Matches? Lighter?"

"Double check."

"Iron . . .anything? Crowbar, maybe?"

"We got it." Dean said. "Let's get going. Everyone'll be gone by now."

"I'll just be reading up on the opera house, which I find extremely fascinating, and you don't," said Jay, "Don't mind me at all. Nope. Go burn some bones."

They both ignored her. "Where's the body buried?"

"Should be under the stage," said Sam, "This guy was obsessed."

"Call us if something comes up," said Dean.

"Ha," said Jay, "Why don't _you_ call _me_ when you're both in trouble?" Charlie barked in agreement.

* * *

><p>"Man, this places gives me the creeps," said Dean, as he and Sam pulled up the floorboards. Sam gave him a skeptical look and he added, "I mean, you know, more than usual. More than other places."<p>

"Dude, just don't even think about it," said Sam, "Jeez, they could even give the guy a decent burial? Who the hell consented to this?"

"Not kids," said Dean. "Do you think he was ever married? I bet he died a virgin."

"He _was_ married, actually." said Sam. They had reached the soft dirt underneath the foundation, and Sam walked around slowly, testing to see if there were any signs of a grave. He didn't have much hope, since the ground they were looking for had been turned over ninety years ago. "Mr. and Mrs. Tippe."

"What happened to Mrs. Tippe?" asked Dean.

Sam shrugged. "I didn't bother checking. There wasn't a lot on her, so she must have been pretty quiet. She just didn't seem important."

* * *

><p>Jay read and reread one word in an outdated newspaper article on the Plasting Public Library website. Sam had not bothered to go as far back as this, but Jay was reading up on Mr. Tippe's suicide. There was no picture, but a rather gruesome description of how Tippe had hung himself from the rafters right over the stage. Tippe's wife had only allowed herself one comment to the newspaper and that was "He loved that theater more than anything." There was a picture of her, dressed all in black, at her husband's funeral, which had taken place inside the opera house. Tippe looked extremely peaceful and whole there, in his casket, and Jay supposed that he should, because he had not, in fact, broken his neck while hanging himself.<p>

The word Jay kept rereading was "suffocated."

She thought it was odd. Very, very odd. A feeling of panic started deep inside her stomach and spread outward until her fingers shook. What she wondered was this; if Tippe had, in fact, wrapped a noose around his neck and jumped, stopping seven or so feet down, why hadn't his neck snapped? Suffocation should not have been a factor.

Charlie sensed her distress and yawned a squeaky nervous dog yawn, pacing behind her, waiting for her to act.

Jay, hands shaking, clicked on the funeral picture to enlarge it. And she saw there was she was expecting but hoping not to see, and when she did she shrieked, closed the website window and dove for the phone.

More than anything. He loved that theater more than anything.

It was barely visible, with a picture of that quality, and on a computer to boot, but Jay was absolutely one hundred per cent sure she had seen a soft smile on Mrs. Tippe's face.

* * *

><p>Sam tugged at the collar of his shirt, breathing hard. "Stuffy down here, isn't it?"<p>

"Jesus Christ, you'd think we'd have found something by now." said Dean. "I hate this place. I hate opera houses. Heck, I just plain hate _opera_. Who likes opera?"

"Keep digging," Sam grunted. "Besides, it's not that bad. We'll burn the bones, people will stop dying and then they'll renovate the place. Jay was right, it'd be good for the town. And then everyone except for you will be happy to be here."

Dean was about to call Sam a bitch, but two things happened that prevented him from doing so. One, the cell phone in his jacket pocket rang, and two, a rotting Mrs. Tippe showed up with her hands in a vice-grip around Sam's neck. Sam dropped his shovel and his hands instinctively went to hers, trying to rip them away from his throat, but he couldn't move her an inch.

Dean retrieved the iron crowbar from its resting place and swiped, dispelling the ghost. She materialized behind him, screaming, spitting, a look of wrath upon her face. Sam armed himself with the salt rock shotgun, and they both stood facing her, waiting for an attack. But she did not move any closer.

Dean's phone was done ringing, and instead went to voicemail. Jay's voice erupted from it in a warped screech. "DEAN! SAM! GET OUT!"

"The timing with these things," said Dean, and Sam fired.

The rock salt dispelled Mrs. Tippe again, and Sam and Dean set to work getting the hell out of the opera house. They were up on the main stage when she appeared again, still howling, and knocked Sam clean off the stage, which was raised a good four feet from the ground. Then she disappeared again.

"Where'd she go? Where'd she go?" Dean demanded, turning this way and that with the crowbar, ready to strike. He lowered himself offstage to help Sam up, still looking around. "Are you okay, dude?"

Sam was gasping for air. He clutched at his throat. Dean abandoned the shotgun but kept the crowbar, and started dragging Sam towards the exit. He was ten yards away when his phone rang again, but he did not bother answering it.

Dean was five yards from the door, crowbar in one hand and dragging Sam with the other when he felt the air leave his lungs for no apparent reason. It was like he'd never learned to breathe, and instead of gasping, he and Sam were both left coughing and choking on the floor. Tippe had appeared in front of the exit, still looking as angry as ever. Dean wished he had the shotgun, but threw the crowbar instead.

He was dead on. Tippe disappeared and for a few moments they both sucked in clean air, breathing easy. They had started towards the door when Tippe appeared yet again. The iron crowbar lay uselessly behind her. While Sam and Dean were suffocating, while spots dotted their vision and everything blurred together, Jay's voice came clearly from Dean's cell phone once again, this time much calmer, and with the most reassuring words they had ever heard.

"I'm almost there."

* * *

><p>Charlie went in first. Jay was not a fan of chain link collars, but in this case, she had equipped him with an iron one before leaving the hotel room and now followed him into the theater, shotgun in hand. Charlie charged, Jay shot - they made a good team.<p>

Tippe, however, was a quick learner even in death. The rock salt loaded into the shotgun was easy for her to dodge, and Charlie even easier.

Jay saw Sam and Dean lying on the floor, both trying to drag themselves forward despite their lack of air. She stepped forward to assist, but Tippe appeared directly in front of her and Jay felt cold, damp fingers wrap tightly around her throat. Her thoughts raced.

Just before Tippe had completely closed off her airway, Jay reached into her pocket, pulled out a lighter, flicked it on in front of Mrs. Tippe's face and rasped "Look! I . . . promise." The last word was barely more than a puff of air, but the jealous, angry ghost of Mr. Tippe's wife appeared to understand, for she let go.

Jay allowed herself ten seconds of deep wheezing on all fours before forcing herself up. She pushed at Sam and Dean. "Get up!" she said. "Move!" Eventually, they stumbled towards the door.

"Come _on_!" said Dean, waving at her from the exit.

"Just wait," said Jay. "Just wait."

Sam and Dean had left the gasoline under the floorboards of the stage. Jay made good use of it, spreading it around wherever she could, and finally dumped the empty container on the stage. Then she lit a match, let it drop, and ran out the door.

* * *

><p>Sam, Dean, and Jay surveyed the burnt ruins of the opera house the next day.<p>

"How did you know it was her?" Sam asked.

"A creepy newspaper article," said Jay.

Dean muttered, "We should salt and burn her bones just to be sure."

"She was cremated." said Jay. "It wasn't her body that was keeping her here. It was the opera house. She hated it."

"Why?" Sam asked. "What was so bad about it?"

"Her husband loved it more than he loved her." Jay shrugged. "Also, I think he cheated on her with someone from one of the traveling shows."

Sam and Dean looked at her. "How do you know that?" Sam asked.

"Because it was right after a bunch of dancing showgirls came to town that she killed him," she explained, "And it said he was extremely involved with the leading lady, like he was showing her around town and his _theater_, of course."

"She killed him?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"Dude," said Jay, "I _told_ you that. She suffocated him and then made it look like he hung himself. I think she might have just . . . lowered him gently. His neck wasn't broken."

"So she killed him because she was jealous, and then stuck around after he died _why_?" Dean asked.

"You're missing the point that I've already _told _you, blockhead," Jay said. "It was the _theater_ she hated. The cheating part just put her over the edge. And when she died, I guess she just never wanted it to prosper. So she was busy sabotaging anybody that wanted to use it. Anyone that _liked_ it, really."

"So you promised to burn it down for her." Sam said.

"Yeah," Jay said. Then, for good measure she added "Crazy-ass bitch."

They all stood in silence in front of the wreckage. Policemen and TV reporters swarmed the scene.

"Let's get out of here," grunted Dean. They left without another word.

* * *

><p>"Hey. Kid. <em>Jay<em>." she swiped at the prodding finger, but it turned into a hand shaking her shoulder. "Wake _up_."

Jay said something incoherent and rolled over in the back seat of the Impala. Somewhere, floating around with the rest of her fuzzy thoughts was the knowledge that Dean was trying to wake her up because they had stopped at a hotel. But she was so comfortable and warm, and she knew that there was miserable weather between her and the hotel room. Drizzle. Not even proper rain. Jay liked proper rain, and thunderstorms. But she couldn't stand drizzle.

"Okay, so we're going to do this the _hard way." _said Dean. He reached in, took the edge of Jay's thick blanket from around her head and yanked it off her, sending a cold shiver up her spine.

"Nooooo," she protested weakly. "Give it" _yawn _"back." She wondered if it was worth it to get up. It wasn't _that_ cold.

"Come on, kid, I haven't got all day." Charlie barked somewhere outside the car. Clearly he was on Dean's side about this. Traitor.

Jay simply curled up tighter to conserve heat, holding her knees against her chest with one arm and shielding her eyes with the other.

"I'll leave you out here," Dean threatened.

Jay, who didn't really mind the idea, said, "Blanket."

"What are you, five?"

Jay didn't even respond. She was half asleep, and her head felt too heavy and cloudy to instruct her body to do anything. She expected more comments, or threats, or poking, but didn't really care what they might be. She heard the door shut, and cracked open an eye to see if Dean had left the blanket. It wasn't anywhere in her narrow field of vision.

Oh well.

Jay was a bit surprised when the door by her feet opened and let in a gust of cold air. She shivered again.

"Come on, then," Dean sighed. He leaned in, got an arm under her shoulders and another under her knees, and lifted her out of the car. He shut the Impala's back door with his foot, then kicked at the motel door instead of knocking. "Sam! Open up!"

"It's not even locked." Sam said as he opened the door. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Dean carrying Jay bridal style into the hotel room. "Isn't she kind of young for you?" he said.

"Older," Jay interjected sleepily.

"Shut up and tuck her in," Dean grunted, passing Jay off to Sam, who almost dropped her. Charlie growled.

"I got her, I got her," Sam reassured the mutt. He received a skeptical look from Dean, but a grin from Charlie.

* * *

><p><strong>Cool.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7: Running

**This bit is far less action-y, just to warn you.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Running<strong>

It was after Sam and Dean were snoring that Jay opened her eyes in the middle of the night, wide awake. She didn't remember her half-conversation with Dean, nor being moved into the hotel room. Sam was sleeping on the opposite bed, and Dean was on the floor. Charlie was sleeping peacefully on her stomach.

"Anyone awake?" Jay asked the darkened room. There was no answer. She slid silently out of bed, and found her crumpled socks on the floor. She had to search blindly for her jacket and shoes as well, but eventually found and put on both. She picked up her backpack and purse, put those on so her hands were free, then picked up Charlie and placed him on the floor. He had been awake since she got out of bed.

Jay opened the door and stepped outside, where the drizzle had cleared up and left a starry sky in its place.

She had not planned this. In fact, she had thought just the day before that she had never been so comfortable around other people before. However, she had woken up feeling rash, restless and pressured, as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders; these were all symptoms that it was time to go.

Dean had locked the Impala, but it was easy picking for Jay, who had had hundreds of years of experience. She opened the door to let Charlie in, then threw in her bags and sat in the driver's seat. She put her hands on the wheel and turned to Charlie. His eyes glowed in the darkness like two orange moons.

"What do you think, Charlie?" she asked. "We could be off in a snap. Hours of head start. And they wouldn't have a car." She paused to admire the Impala. "It really is a nice car."

Charlie was silent, something that Jay was unused to. He always gave a bark, reprimanding or reassuring, or a whine, or a growl, to signal exactly what he was thinking.

"Charlie?"

Charlie lay down in the passenger's seat and refused to give his opinion. Jay supposed this meant _You're going to figure this one out on your own._

Jay drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She thought Dean probably kept a lot of money in the Impala. Probably a lot of everything. The brothers basically lived off the car and whatever was in the trunk. They would probably be fine, though. She wouldn't need the car for long. She could leave it somewhere for them to discover. She could write them a note, so they could find it when they woke up.

To dispel the thoughts, Jay shook her head. Notes? That wasn't a clean getaway. Clean getaways meant you left it how you found it. Like you were never there. Then again, that directly violated stealing the Impala. Could Castiel find her? She had her bracelet back.

Jay's tiny logical self was up and running, deflating happy balloon thoughts with a giant needle. She could practically see it. A big red one labeled They care was punctured into a The angel's making them do it. And when out of that rose a yellow balloon saying At least the angel cares, Jay's logic took out that one with a _Not about you. The Grail. The Holy Grail._

_ The Holy Grail. What a load._

_ No, no, no. I saved them. I saved them twice._

_ Does it matter?_

_ Yes. No._

_ You'd better leave. Better run. Better run before they wake up. Better leave before they do._

Jay opened a small switchblade, put it into the ignition and turned. The Impala started up with a low thrum. Jay reached to put the gear stick in drive, but her hand paused over it, then moved up to the ignition and twisted the knife to shut off the car again.

She sat there in silence. Then she opened the door, stepped out and walked all the way around the car twice before getting back in. Charlie was still waiting patiently for her.

Jay squeezed her eyes shut, hands clenched on the steering wheel once again. She gritted her teeth.

_Listen, Jay,_ said Logic,_ you are always better off alone. It's easier. And it's easier for others. When you open your eyes, you're going to go to the trunk, open it, get all the important stuff. Weapons. IDs. Tools of the trade. Then you're going to put them in the hotel room, _quietly_, that's very important. You'll take the keys, none of this hot-wiring or switchblade stuff. Empty out the back seat, too. You will drive the car out of town and leave it on the side of the road after getting something really good to eat.. They'll be so happy to find it, because they'll have thought you'd have taken it for good since you left the weapons. And then they will forget about you, and you and Charlie will lay low for a few days, and then you'll hitchhike. And things will be normal. No more angels. Demons you can handle. _

As Jay ran through this, her muscles relaxed, and her fingers began to drum on the steering wheel again, slowly. She even smiled a little at the thought of getting a nice, hot meal, a really big one, and being absolutely stuffed for the entire day.

She opened her eyes.

Then she rolled down the window, because Sam was standing outside, looking at her.

He looked tired and wary, but not at all confused. In fact, he looked like he knew exactly what was going on and what he was going to do about it.

"Hey," he said, calmly. "What are you doing?"

"I was going to steal the Impala." Jay admitted blankly. It didn't even occur to her to lie. Sam nodded, as if stealing the Impala was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

"No keys," he pointed out. They could have been talking about the weather.

Jay held up the switchblade. "I was going to use this."

Sam reached in, unlocked the door, and held it open. He did not say anything until Jay stepped out. Charlie followed lazily. Sam gently closed the door after him.

"So, where were you going to go?" he asked.

"I've never been to Florida," said Jay absently. "I hear they have deep sea fishing there."

"You like fishing?" he asked. They both leaned against the hood of the Impala, contemplating each other in the darkness.

"Yes," said Jay, "Sometimes I do."

"I've never done it." Sam said.

"Sure you have," said Jay, "Just with really big, scary, land monsters."

Sam chuckled. "You could say that, I guess."

"What woke you up?" she asked.

"Nightmares," he admitted.

"Oh," said Jay. After listening to their story, she could only imagine the nightmares the brothers had. There was a short silence.

"I thought you might be a runner." Sam said finally.

Jay felt her face grow hot and was glad for the cover of night. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just a hunch. Takes one to know one."

Jay let a flicker of astonishment pass over her face. "I wouldn't have pegged you for one. Not even a little bit."

"College," said Sam, "Dad and Dean took it as my way of saying bye forever. That, and, well . . . we're just _different_."

"Was it?" Jay asked carefully, "Your saying goodbye, I mean." She was unsure if she was intruding.

He shrugged. "Kind of. How about you?"

"I travel." said Jay, "Besides hitchhiking, I mean."

"Where have you been?"

"Lots of places. I hitch a ride on cruise ships, usually as a musician-"

"Really? What do you play?"

"Piano. Guitar. Saxophone."

"Wow. Do you sing?"

Jay laughed. "Oh, never. Anyways. I've traveled around Europe a lot, actually, and I made a lot of money just playing on the street. I even had a fake passport, once. I needed for hostels and stuff."

"Was Charlie with you?" asked Sam.

Charlie barked and wagged his tail enthusiastically.

"Of course," Jay translated. "It's a lot harder to travel with pets, but Charlie's smart, and he's learned to be good with cars and boats, since I moved around a lot. I never really stayed more than a few weeks in one place." Jay let that hang in the air, and wished Sam would say something, because she couldn't think of anything.

"You should stick around a little bit longer," Sam advised, finally. There was another, longer silence and Jay finally nodded, wondering if Sam could see her. He must have, because he put an arm around her shoulders, and Jay let herself be led back into the hotel room, where she slept peacefully. Before Charlie settled next to her, he jumped onto Sam's bed, grinned at him and licked his face.

* * *

><p>The next morning Sam and Dean were already packed when Jay woke up.<p>

"Jeez, _finally_," said Dean, "You slept like the dead. We packed most of your stuff for you, so hurry up and get ready."

Charlie, who got excited whenever they packed, zipped around the hotel room, leaving chaos in the wake of his wagging tail. He barked excitedly at Jay.

"SHHH!" Dean hissed, "We're not supposed to have dogs, idiot."

Charlie gave a much quieter, apologetic _woof_. Jay sat up, kissed his head and stepped into the bathroom to get ready. After she brushed her teeth and washed her face, she found a clean T-shirt but kept the jeans she'd slept in, then went to get her jacket and shoes. Putting them on in the bustle of early morning felt much different than when she had been sneaking out.

* * *

><p><strong>Huzzah! Thanks for reading! :D<strong>


	8. Chapter 8: Back to School

**Oh sheesh, y'all. I haven't had a lot of time to write because I have these annoying things like school and work. Sorry :(  
>Anyways. Hopefully you enjoy :) Please review and things like that. <strong>

**Chapter 8: High School**

"It's too _early_," Dean yawned. "Jeez, I can't see how I ever made it to class in the morning."

"You probably didn't," Sam pointed out.

"Shut up, nerd."

Sam changed the subject. "Alright, Jay, we'll meet you outside an hour after school ends."

"Sounds like a plan," said Jay, getting out of the car. She was dressed more nicely than she was used to: black slacks, a striped white blouse, a vest, and shoes that weren't torn up. She had a very offical-looking briefcase, and had even managed to rustle up some cheap jewelry yesterday. Charlie howled as the Impala pulled away, until Sam and Dean shushed him simultaneously.

Jay's first stop at 6:30 a.m. was the principal's office.

* * *

><p>Principal Dirkins looked through Katherine Randall's file mostly for show. Of course, he had looked through it once or twice in the past week, and thoroughly the day before, just to check for any inconsistencies. He had spoken on the phone with the young teaching assistant twice, and she sounded nice enough. Since there was nobody else who wanted the internship, he already knew she would get the position. However, he sincerely hoped that her niceness was something of an act, or else the students would scare her off within the first week.<p>

"You have a very impressive file for an undergraduate student," Dirkins informed her.

"Thank you, sir," she said. Politeness. He hoped so much of that was a show as well.

Dirkins put away the folder and smiled. Katherine smiled back.

"Well, the formalities are mostly in order, so there's not much for me to tell you, other than to assign you your mentors. You'll have two teachers to assist, two classes in the morning and two in the afternoon. As you know, we run on an eight-hour day."

"Yes, sir." This time Dirkins saw a flash of . . . something in her eyes, so quickly he thought he probably imagined it. But if it was there, it made him less nervous.

"Your morning teacher is the band director, Mrs. Daily, and your afternoon shift will be with Mr. Steppe, who teaches English. You'll have classes during hours two, three, five and eight. Any questions?"

"What time should I be here in the morning?"

"Since Mrs. Daily doesn't have a first hour class, you may report to her at around 7 a.m."

"Thank you," and she stood up, gathered her things and headed out the door.

"Oh, and miss Randall?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck."

"Thank you sir,"

Then Jay left, eager to start her position as the new student teacher, and Principal Dirkins began to fuss over what he was going to say when the police and reporters arrived to ask about the most recent death.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Daily was a woman in her early fifties, very lively for her age, and in between grey and dark brown hair. She was the kind of band director who genuinely wanted her students to do well, but used harsh, negative methods to speed up their progression.<p>

"IT'S AN A FLAT! DID NONE OF YOU PRACTICE THIS WEEKEND?" she screamed. Jay, who was down the hall at the copy machine, heard her quite clearly. She felt a tad sorry that the students would never realize that Mrs. Daily was actually a very adept musician. They probably all hated her.

"Miss Randall, please take the podium," Mrs. Daily grunted, dropping her baton. "I can't stand any more of this ruckus."

And with that, she took the sheet music from Jay's hands and stormed into her office. Jay stood on the podium.

"Alright, guys," she said. Mrs. Daily had introduced her earlier that morning. "What are we playing? Some kind of march?"

There was a scatter of nods and yesses. Jay had learned to conduct, but it had been a long time since she'd done so, and the ninth grade band was not exactly stellar in keeping their eyes on the conductor anyways.

It was going to be a long morning.

* * *

><p>Jay eventually got through the ninth grade band and had a chance at the honors band, which was quite a reprieve from the noisy, incompetent freshmen. She wondered how kids could grow up so much in just the space of two or three years. She was allowed one two free hours: the first she spent eating lunch in the teacher's lounge, meeting some of the other staff, including the vice principal. And she supposed she must have been the subject of one rumor or conversation or another, because one staff member stared hard at her for a good five minutes while she talked with the vice principal. Jay pretended not to notice this. She tried her best to ease her way into the student-killingsdisappearances, but none of the teachers seemed eager to talk about it. It was a touchy subject, she supposed. She wondered if any of their prized pupils had been taken.

There was, however, a young woman with curly red hair that some of the other teachers seemed to avoid. Especially the other women teachers. Jay asked why she was sitting alone.

Tilly the social studies teacher shook her head. "That _woman_," she began, and Jay knew she was about to get an earful. "Her name is Allison. She does _nothing_ but talk, talk, talk, and nobody can get a word in edgewise. Just a few years out of college, she is, and she acts like she owns the place. She seems to do all right by her students, but goodness does she like to show off. And what a _snipe_ she is. Careful what you share with her, because it will get around like a _wildfire_. She'll dump all her problems on you, too, and good grief, it's just _drama, drama, drama_. She's the new coach of the dance line, and she does all the choreography." Tilly leaned in closer to whisper, "Darling, you have never _seen_ such stripper moves. Ugh, she loves to be _so_ dramatic."

Jay was not particularly fond of any school dance line, but she thought this was unfair. They were probably just doing their best.

"I think I'll just introduce myself," said Jay, and took her food to the table where Allison sat alone. "Hello." she greeted.

"Hi," said Allison rather timidly.

"I'm a new teaching assistant," said Jay, sitting down and offering her hand, "My name's Katie Randall."

"I'm Allison Brush," Allison shook her hand. She had a very gentle grip and a soft, high voice. "I teach algebra."

"I'm helping Mrs. Daily and Mr. Steppe. I haven't met Steppe yet." Jay explained.

"Oh. Don't worry, he's nice. But he's in the middle of a divorce, I think it's hard on him. And Mrs. Daily is really nice, too, once you get to know her, but I don't think her kids like her very much. Her students, I mean. She does have kids, though. Two daughters and a little boy." Allison leaned forward to whisper just like Tilly had. "Her oldest daughter was caught doing drugs, though. Marijuana."

Jay raised her eyebrows. "Oh?" she said.

"Oh yes. It was very recent, they're still dealing with police and everything. That's been hard on her. And of course, everybody's uptight about the kids dying. Or disappearing. There was one was just a couple of days ago, did you hear?"

Jay had been hoping for exactly this.

"No," she said, feigning surprised. "That's horrible. How did it happen?"

"Oh gosh, of course they wouldn't tell you, we need more faculty to keep an eye on the kids," she said, "Please don't be frightened off or anything, but there have been some student deaths quite recently. The first one was on the first day of school, can you believe that? And then there was another in September, two in October, and _two_ just last week."

Jay knew all of this already, of course.

"So it wasn't just an accident?" she asked carefully.

Allison shook her head and looked slightly sick. "It was really horrible," she said quietly, and seemed genuinely worried, "The janitors found the first three, because they'd been stuck in lockers and a broom closet. I heard it was really bad, smells and . . . blood . . . and then the fourth boy, the lunch lady found when she went out back to smoke. He was in the dumpster. And then, last week, the baseball coach found one of the players in the locker room." She gulped, leaned further in, and whispered so Jay had to lean in and tilt her ear towards Allison, "And I had to stay late yesterday to tutor some kids and . . . and . . . I found the boy in the middle of the hallway."

Then Allison retreated back into her seat and put her hands over her mouth. Jay stared at her.

"I'm so sorry," she blurted.

"Principal Dirkins was the only one I told," she whimpered, her voice muffled by her hands. "Nobody else will talk to me."

Jay looked around the teacher's lounge and saw everybody ignoring Allison, even though she was quite clearly on the verge of tears. Jay abandoned her lunch, guided Allison out of her seat by the elbow, murmured "Let's get some fresh air," and led her outside, where Allison burst into full waterworks.

"Oh gosh," said Jay, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I just, I was curious, you didn't have to-"

"It's alright," Allison choked, "I was bursting to say something to someone anyways, but I didn't want to just go around and tell _everyone_ because they all think I'm a big gossiper. They'll think I'm doing it for attention, or making things up."

"Don't worry about it," Jay patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Wow, and you're at school today? Why didn't you take the day off?"

"I didn't want anyone to think I was being silly," Allison explained, "There was no blood or anything, it was just like . . . like . . he was just _there_."

"Who was it?" Jay asked.

"I didn't know him," Allison said, "But Dirkins says his name is Carson Hardy."

"It's alright," Jay, in full comfort mode, put a protective arm around Allison's shoulder and sat her down, thinking about how they were complete strangers, "Sometimes it helps to tell the story. Unless you don't want to, then it's just fine."

Allison shook her head, sniffed defiantly, and sat up straight. She wiped her tears away. "No, I . . . I think you're right. I should tell the whole story."

And it went like this: Allison had stayed after school to help three struggling students. Their names were Jason, Vincent and Nellie. They went home around 4:30, and Allison stayed until 5:30 grading papers and tests and recording scores. Then she locked up her classroom and office and was on the way out when she saw Carson Hardy sprawled out in the middle of the hallway, eyes wide, mouth open. He looked as if someone had popped out around the corner and frightened him to death. This, however, was unlikely, because Carson was the largest, scariest linebacker Franklin High School had ever seen. Allison had stood there, staring at him for a few seconds before screaming for someone to come help, at which point the principal and janitors came running. Then she fainted, and that was the end of it.

"I'm sorry," Jay said again, somewhat absentmindedly. She was thinking that there were a number of things that could scare a football player to death, but that not a lot of them would leave him untouched. No marks whatsoever?

The bell rang, making them both jump.

"Oh, that's the end of class," said Allison. "I teach this hour. I have to go. But thank you, Katie."

"Don't worry about it," said Jay. "Here, let's walk together."

Allison wiped her eyes, sniffed, and stood resolutely. "Of course. Thank you again." She smiled. "I'll show you the way to Mr. Steppe's classroom."

Despite the slight delay, Jay still arrived in the classroom before most of the students. Allison actually walked her all the way to the classroom and stayed to introduce her.

"Hello, Alex," Allison said. She had told Jay on the way there that she was not quite brave enough to call all the older staff by their first names. Steppe, however, was only in his thirties and generally mild-mannered, so Allison was a tad more comfortable.

"Hello, Allison," he smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"I just met your new teaching assistant," said Allison, beaming at Jay. "She's wonderful."

"I'm Katie Randall," said Jay.

"Alex Steppe."

And even as they shook hands, Jay was thinking _Ugh, it's that Staring Guy. _The very same one from lunch, earlier. He seemed to have gained his composure. Jay wondered if he had simply been lost in thought, but she doubted it.

"Alrighty," Allison said brightly. "I'll leave you to your class."

Steppe had three classes, two of which Jay was required to help: Tenth grade English, AP Literature, and Creative Writing. Jay chose to skip creative writing. She had never been particularly fond of it. During that hour she simply graded papers, made copies, and recorded grades.

She was not a fan of the volatile copy machine. During the hour that Steppe had no class, she was supposed to make twenty or so copies of a chapter quiz, but the machine refused to spit out any more than two. Eventually Steppe came in, wondering what was taking so long.

"It's not working," Jay muttered. Steppe laughed, and stepped up to the machine. Then, with all the precision of a rocket scientist, he hit the side of the copier with one flat hand and it shuddered to life.

"Just like new." he said. "Well, you know what I mean."

Jay sighed. "I guess it comes with time."

Steppe nodded. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"You already have," Jay said this more to herself than to him, as she was once again focused on the copy machine.

Steppe smiled and shook his head. "Do you know anyone by the name of Jay Peters?"

To her credit, Jay betrayed her shock with nothing more than a moment of hesitation. Her thoughts were racing at a hundred miles an hour. Jay Peters was not, of course, her real name, but she had had plenty of aliases and this was a bit too much of a coincidence for her liking.

"Jay Peters?" Jay said nonchalantly, "I don't think so. Why, who is he?"

"She," Steppe corrected, "Just someone I knew. I thought there might be some relation. You look just like her."

_I'll bet_, Jay thought. She silently cursed her hands for getting all sweaty. No wonder Steppe had been staring at her the entire time she'd been talking to the vice principal. He must have recognized her. _Stupid, stupid. I should who this guy is!_

"Randall, Peters," she mused, "You never know. I could check, I guess. Maybe she's just distant?"

Steppe shrugged it off, but Jay thought he looked rather disappointed.

"Old student of yours?" Jay asked, lining up the copies of the chapter quiz more carefully than was necessary.

Steppe laughed a little at that, "No, no, I wasn't her teacher. We were friends when I was in high school."

"Oh." said Jay, "So she would be, like, my aunt twice removed or something like that."

Steppe chuckled again. "Something like that. Don't even worry about it."

But, of course, the first thing Jay said to Sam and Dean when they saw her at the end of the day was "_Shit_, guys. The English teacher knows me."


	9. Chapter 9: Complications

**In which stuff happens. Anyways. Thanks for taking a look :) Review and things. Unless you don't want to. But it would be much appreciated. I apologize for any silly grammar/spelling mistakes.**

**Chapter 9: Complications**

When Jay explained that Alex Steppe the English Teacher knew someone named Jay Peters that looked just like her, Dean and Sam were not as alarmed as she thought they should be.

"So he thinks you're a spitting image of an old friend." said Dean, "What's the problem here? He can't know that you're the same person. He thinks you're too young."

"Because I'm _exactly the same age_!" said Jay, "I hate this! I can't remember anything!"

"It's been a long time. Maybe you just remind him of . . . you. If it was you." Dean shrugged.

"Of course it was! It just so happens that he knew some other girl named Jay who looked just like me? What if he's got _pictures_?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, but, he's not really the problem." said Sam, "Unless he's killing off students."

"Doubtful," Jay admitted. This, at least, had gotten her back on track. "I talked to one of the teachers who found a football player. She said it looked like he'd been _scared_ to death."

"Helpful," Dean grunted. "Sam and I checked out the other bodies. They seemed like they just dropped dead out of nowhere. No sulfur. No ectoplasm. Not a damn thing weird about them."

"Which is weird," Sam added.

"Oh, irony," sighed Jay. "You couldn't even say they had heart attacks?"

"Not even that," said Sam grimly. "The school's pretty old, but there hasn't been any violence in the papers. No urban legends. Nothing."

"We can't have _zero_ leads," said Jay, exasperated. "Who's been killed so far?"

"A bunch of jocks," said Dean, pulling out a list, "Two football players, one hockey, one baseball . . . and one kid who didn't play sports."

Jay raised her eyebrows. "Seriously? Who's the odd one out?"

"Brandon - something," said Dean.

"Brandon Zeker." Sam rolled his eyes. "He doesn't have a very good reputation, even at the coroner's. Stole stuff."

"Natural born Juvy Hall type of kid, huh?" Jay mused. "How about the sporty guys? Clean records?"

"One or two harassment incidents on file," said Sam, "Most of them just got passed off as a harmless hazing type of thing."

Jay's expression was a mix of disgust and anger. "Harmless my ass. Somebody on the school board loves sports. And they like to see their team win."

"Well we can rule out the school board and consider you then, can't we?" Dean's answer was muffled slightly, as he was lying face down on the bed.

"Shut your face, Dean." Jay grumped. "Anyways. You guys should talk to the coaches or something."

"Whoa, I thought the high school was your part of the job this time," Dean protested.

"It's been a _day_," said Jay, "Nobody's going to trust me enough to open up about this stuff in time. They'd be more responsive to cops. You know. Official guys. I'm just a student teacher. Or something. I don't even know." She groaned. "I don't want to deal with the English teacher tomorrow."

"Why don't you ask him about the dead kids?" asked Dean, "What's his name? Stork?"

"Alex Step," Sam said helpfully.

"It's pronounced 'Steppy.'" Jay corrected. "And all he said was that I-or Jay, or . . . you know what I mean. He was vague. I could have publicly humiliated him, or something."

"It does sound like something you'd do," Dean said. Jay threw a pillow at him.

"Look, Jay, try not to worry about it," Sam suggested. "If you get too nervous around him you'll let something slip. Just . . . I don't know. Be Katie Randall. What do you think is going to happen? If he ever gets to wondering if you're the same person, he'll think he's going crazy. Because that's what normal people do."

"Stellar advice, kiddo." Dean gave a cheesy smile and a thumbs-up.

Jay, however, was finally feeling a little bit calmer. It had been a long time ago. Surely Steppe didn't _really_ remember her. It was a stretch, but it might have even been a coincidence. No harm done.

* * *

><p>Jay ducked, and a pencil holder missed her head by inches, showering her with writing utensils of all sorts. She sincerely regretted not knocking, but she had never expected not to be welcome in the counselor's office.<p>

Jay had been sent by Mrs. Daily to give Austins a bunch of signed permission slips for a field trip, and to inform someone that the copier in the music hallway was out of order. So, not thinking, she opened the door to the counselors office and had stood there blankly while realizing that there were three other people besides Austins in the room having an important conversation. There was Dirkins, Steppe, and a woman she didn't know.

It was the woman who had thrown the pencil holder. Upon seeing Jay she had shrieked wordlessly, turned to Steppe and screamed "IS SHE-? IS THAT WHY-?" Then she turned to Jay, her face a deep red. "HOW! COULD YOU! HE'S MY HUSBAND! HE'S MINE!" Then she had reached for the nearest object and launched it across the room. Jay was still in shock. She was staring at the dent in the wall behind her. The rest of the faculty in the office was now listening in.

Steppe and Austins were restraining the woman, whom Jay could only assume was Mrs. Steppe. Allison had said there was a divorce going on . . .

Dirkins had had enough. He stood firm in front of the raging woman and roared, "_Liz, shut your mouth._" Liz the Raging Woman quieted out of shock, and Principal Dirkins continued calmly. "This is Katie Randall. She moved into town a week ago, and yesterday was her first day as an assistant teacher. She is an undergraduate student."

This statement put Liz the Raging Woman into a sort of shocked, comatose state. "Oh my," was her only comment.

"Should I leave?" Jay squeaked, inching backwards. Everyone was either looking at her or Liz, the No Longer Raging Woman. Steppe had a hand over his eyes, head hanging.

Austins looked like he was going to mercifully dismiss her, but Liz Steppe straightened up and gained composure. Now that she was calm, and thoroughly embarrassed, she looked much less dangerous and much more like a kind, caring mother. "I am so, so, terribly sorry, my dear. I thought - I - I mistook you for - someone else. I'm so sorry."

"Katie, we'll clear this up later." Dirkins said. "Please close the door."

Thankful for an escape, Jay backed out of the doorway and closed it tight.

* * *

><p>"Eliza Steppe did that?" said Allison, amazed. Jay nodded.<p>

"It scared the ever living shit out of me," she said, "And that's _saying_ something."

"I heard she stormed into the main office this morning, looking for him." said Allison. "I'll bet Jay was his old flame," Allison waggled her eyebrows. She was quite good at the eyebrow-waggle. "She must have been so jealous, thinking you were the same person. High school for them was . . . what, twenty years ago? You're much too young."

Jay put her face in her hands. "I can't believe this is only my second day." she said.

Allison patted her hand sympathetically. "I knew they were getting a divorce, but my _goodness_. It must be very stressful for the both of them." Jay and Allison had a sort of silent agreement not to mention the dead boy. Allison went pale at the very thought of him. "Don't worry about it," Allison continued, "Liz is actually a very nice person. She'll be especially wonderful to you after this, if you ever meet again. It was a simple mistake. The whole thing will blow over soon."

"I hope so," Jay sighed.

"Oh, and here comes Alex now, to make everything better," Allison said, smiling brightly. Jay whipped around, alarmed, but there was no escape. He was making a beeline right towards them, and he was already only yards away.

Allison's timing was perfect. As Steppe neared the table, she slid off her seat and said, "I'll just leave you two alone."

"Right," said Steppe uncertainly. He sat down in her place, across from Jay. "First of all," he began, "I am really, _really, _sorry."

"It's alright," said Jay mildly. "But I could use, you know, some kind of explanation. I mean. Allison told me about your divorce. So who was that girl that I look like?"

Steppe held her gaze for a moment, then dropped his head and started chuckling.

"Jay Peters," he said. His tone was alarmingly nostalgic.

"Old . . . girlfriend?" Jay dared to ask. _Say no, say no, say no_. . .

"No, not really," Steppe answered, and Jay thought_, Thank you, Lord_. "I don't know. It's complicated." _Shit_. "Can we talk about it later?" _Never, no, argh, argh, dammit._

"Sure," said Jay. Was there a way to sneak questions about dead children into this?

Steppe smiled and said loudly, "Just thought somewhere more _private_ would do."

Allison peeked her head around the corner and huffed pointedly.

"Great," said Steppe, "See you in class. But before that, Dirkins wants to talk to you."

Luckily, Dirkins only wanted to apologize for the "incident" and also had to warn her about the policemen that would be coming later that day.

"You're new, so they won't interrogate you or anything," said Dirkins, "But they'll still want to ask a few procedural questions. Alright?"

"That's fine," Jay said. She could tell the entire fiasco to Sam and Dean when they came. "I'll be fine."

Dean had to excuse himself so it wouldn't look like he was laughing uncontrollably during an investigation. Sam was at least a little bit concerned.

"But she apologized, right?" he said, "It's not like she still thinks you're . . . you know. You." Jay rolled her eyes.

"I guess not," she said, "But I'm having trouble finding anything about the kids here. We should've enrolled me as a student. None of the teachers want to talk because it's professional stuff, and none of the kids want to talk because they think I'm a teacher."

"We'll figure something out," said Sam. "See you after school."

Jay was not looking forward to whatever private conversation she was supposed to have with Steppe, but it never occurred to her that it would be anything more than a guilt trip or test of social endurance. It was so much worse. For one thing, she was nervous the entire time she was correcting vocabulary quizzes and making copies, and Steppe waited until the very end of the day to even approach her with anything serious.

"First order of business," he said nonchalantly, "Jay, I know that it's you. I'm not stupid." Jay opened her mouth, but could think of absolutely nothing to say to this, and didn't have a chance to blurt anything anyways, because Steppe went on. "Second, you have a lot of explaining to do and you can't do it here because it's a public school and you probably have things to do." He glanced at the clock. "Do you know the park near the Hilton Hotel?"

Jay nodded silently.

"Salt-zoned," he said, with a sad smile. "See you there at ten tonight."

* * *

><p>Ultimately, it was the phrase "salt-zoned" that got Jay to trust that she was not going to be ambushed. There was an inkling of recognition there. It was Alex's invention, that much she knew. It meant safe places, places where you would not be interrupted or overheard, places like the park, the library, the college greenhouse, Liz's basement.<p>

Both Dean and Sam flat out refused to let her have a secret meeting with a total stranger.

"He's not a stranger!" Jay insisted. "He knows me! I know him! Sort of."

"Bull." said Dean. "What if he's what's been killing the students, huh? And he just happens to know that you have no memory, so you won't actually remember that he's a soul-eating monster."

Jay turned a little pink. "I thought of that," she admitted, "I've tried silver and holy water on him already, if you must know. He's clean."

"He's clean but he's not a hunter, and he knows something about monsters." said Dean, "That just doesn't fit."

Jay could not find any more hard evidence to back up her case, so instead of having Sam and Dean drive her to the park, she walked to the two miles in the middle of the night and arrived at 10:20 p.m.

And, sure enough, there was Alex Steppe, sitting on a park bench, waiting for her. He stood slowly when he saw her coming.

"I know I'm late." said Jay. "I had to walk."

"Thought you might not show," Steppe croaked. And then, taking her by complete surprise yet again, he greeted her by wrapping her in a tight hug. At first she was somewhat alarmed, but managed to resist pushing him away for a good five or six seconds.

"You haven't aged a day," he said. "How? Where did you _go?_"

"It's complicated," she said. It seemed like a safe thing to say.

"I'll bet."

"How did you know it was me?"

Steppe laughed. "Are you kidding? Some girl who looks exactly like you shows up just when kids are mysteriously dying? Who else could it be? Although, at first I thought you might have been, you know . . . a shapeshifter or something."

Jay shook her head. "Shapeshifters take the memories of their victims."

He shrugged. So he didn't know his way around the field, really. "So. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

Jay looked him full in the face. "Listen. You have to believe what I tell you. Okay?"

"Can't be a stretch from some of the other stuff." he said. He seemed impatient.

"I don't remember what happened." she admitted, "I don't remember anything past . . . well, just a couple years ago." Steppe seemed like a genuinely kind person, so Jay waited for him to say something like "That's terrible," or "Are you okay?" or maybe even, "Well that sucks."

Instead, he said, "What the hell kind of an excuse is that? You just _forgot_ everything?"

Jay was taken aback. "It's not like I tried to!" she defended. "I don't remember anything that happened!"

"Yeah, past a couple years ago! But that still means you up and vanished and didn't check in for ten plus years!"

"What do you want me to do about it now, huh?" Jay felt quite wronged.

"You could at least _apologize_."

"Apol-_apologize?_ For all I know this never happened! What's the point in yelling at me for something I don't remember?"

"Maybe I just want to make sure it doesn't happen to the _next_ guy!" Steppe seethed. Jay felt a pang of shame.

"I don't-"

"I thought you were _dead!_"

His last words rang out and echoed amongst the trees. Silence fell between them.

Jay was no stranger to fights, verbal or otherwise. She liked to win. She liked to have the last say. And she could be deadly accurate with her words. But at the moment, nothing swam into her head that she could use, and even if something had, she wouldn't have been able to bring herself to say anything that would exacerbate the situation. At the same time, she didn't want to apologize. It was different than saying sorry to someone in a hospital bed. Demons were not her fault. Not directly. Each time she thought, _I should_, the words caught in her throat. What if it wasn't her fault? What if something _forced_ her away? But that, she thought, was less likely than her simply deciding to leave.

"Oh, don't hurt yourself," Steppe said finally, interrupting her internal struggle. "I know I'm going going to get an apology out of you. Not out loud."

Jay looked up at him with a mixture of amazement, relief and disbelief and managed to hold his gaze for all of two seconds before looking away.

"Look at that. Official Seal of Guilt," he said, without a hint of triumph. "You never could hold a stare, if you felt bad."

Jay felt a subject change was necessary. "So," she said, without looking up, "You never told me how we know each other."

Steppe smiled. "Complicated," he said.

* * *

><p><strong>Whoo! Next chapter I'll get into details.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10: SaltZoned

**Gosh, this is a long one, and I am way too tired to look for silly mistakes. Hope you enjoy! :)**

**Thank you so much for the few reviews I've gotten! They were very motivating. :D**

**Chapter 10: Salt-Zoned**

"Oh, where to start, where to start?" Steppe mused.

"When we met," said Jay.

"Well, you were Liz's friend first," Steppe admitted.

"I was her _friend_?" Jay gaped, and Steppe chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess it's hard for you to believe, but you two were on good terms with one another. You were new and she was your 'student buddy,' to help you out with your first day of school and everything. You guys hit it off right away."

"Did she introduce us?" she asked, musing over this.

"No." Steppe considered Jay carefully. "_You_ introduced Liz to me." Jay raised an eyebrow.

"Now wait just a minute," she said. "I introduced you to your wife, who was my friend, and she sees me again and _throws a pencil holder at me?_ Are you sure this is what happened?"

Steppe laughed again. "Just wait, this will make sense soon. You have to let me tell the story, though."

"Okay." Jay sat down on the park bench, and invited him to sit as well.

"So . . . from what I gather, when you and Liz met, Liz already had an eye on me. I sort of knew _about_ her, because we'd gone through middle school together but I didn't _really_ know her at all. So. Liz tells you that she likes me, and then you and I formally meet over a monster hunt."

"So you're a hunter?" Jay was even more confused.

"No. Not even a little bit." he said. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was this old hospital-it's been knocked down now-that was supposedly haunted. People used to dare each other to go in and bring something back to prove it. I took someone up on it-" Jay rolled her eyes "-they promised me money!" he insisted. "Anyways, so I went in, grabbed a medical chart and came back out, no harm done. Except, I'd left my backpack in there."

"So you went back to get it," Jay predicted.

"I went back to get it," he confirmed.

* * *

><p>The only thing that convinced Alex Steppe to return to the 'haunted' hospital was that he had come out fine the last time he went in. Otherwise, he didn't think his backpack was worth it, even if it did contain two textbooks and a history essay. He had no trouble finding his backpack-indeed, it was just where he had left it, sitting on a dusty desk by a broken window on the second story. Alex, unwilling to carry an extra thirty or so pounds down the rickety stairs, simply pushed the backpack out the broken window and watched it hit the ground with a resounding <em>plunk<em>. It was unnervingly loud in the silence. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raising, and forced himself to turn around and walk slowly towards the doorframe (the door itself had been knocked off its hinges long ago).

Alex would have nightmares for years to come about his next moments in the hospital. He was almost to the doorframe when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the smallest twitch of movement. He turned his head, not quickly or slowly, and saw with incomprehensible horror an enormous, hairy black spider hunched into an upper corner of the room. Its eight eyes were wide open, and staring at him hungrily. The thin layer of calm denial that had carried him to the room dissolved, and all the dormant panic burst forth in a chaotic, adrenaline-driven frenzy. Alex was out in the hall even as he was taking in his first breath to scream. There was not a single thought in his head other than _AWAY_. Alex's quick reaction even caught the spider off guard, as it was a good five seconds before it made it out the door, losing all its stealth in realizing that its prey was on the run. Alex could hear a series of dull thuds in rapid succession on the floorboards and walls as the spider scuttled after him, gaining quickly.

He was about to turn into a different room and take a chance and leap out the window, but as he skidded to slow down, he felt himself plucked up by two enormous pincers, which sliced through his hood and met one another. Alex, still screaming flailed in mid-air trying to wriggle free or get his sweatshirt off, began to have very sudden, morbid thoughts about death. He didn't know what to think when a girl rounded the corner and emphasized her appearance with a blast from a shotgun. The impact sent her back one or two steps, but Alex's hood tore as the pincers released him. There was a wretched half-screech half-growl from above him as the spider fell to the floor, writhing in pain in the hallway. The girl pushed Alex aside, took careful aim with the shotgun, and shot a second time. The spider gave a great lurch, then lay still. The girl reloaded the gun and shot once more; the sound had a certain comforting finality to it.

Alex only had eyes for the grotesque scene before him: the maimed spider, which was missing it's frontmost right leg and much of its right head, as well as two huge, bloody chunks from its stomach, lay belly-up, legs curled it. It occurred to Alex that much of his back was wet with guts, slime, and blood. His attention was drawn away from the mess by a smart slap.

"Stop screaming," said the girl, clearly annoyed. Alex's scream had been cut short by her slap as well, and he was finally able to breathe normally. The girl lifted him roughly by the arm and led him down the stairs and out the back door of the hospital. Once they were out in the open air, Alex Steppe finally had the time to realize that his savior was in fact someone he knew-it was the new girl, Jay Peters, who had caught his attention on her first day of school when she'd had to introduce herself to the AP Language and Composition class. He doubted she knew him; if she didn't, she would now.

Alex watched Jay pack her shotgun away in a duffle-bag, then opened his mouth to ask a question. The problem was, he didn't know where to begin, so he ended up simply staring at her with his jaw dropped.

"Do you have a car?" Jay asked. Alex nodded. She continued in a kind voice, "Here's what you'll do: drive home, throw away your clothes, take a long shower and get a good night's sleep. Skip school tomorrow, if you want. Understand? Nod if you understand."

Alex nodded, but as she turned around he blurted, "Wait . . . my backpack."

The look she gave him was akin to the one a parent might give a second grader who has forgotten their shoes.

"Go and get it," she said. Alex obediently retrieved his backpack from the other side of the hospital, where it lay on the ground amongst broken glass. He brought it back, hoping to show her he was not completely incompetent, but when he returned she was gone.

Nothing seemed quite real in the morning. Alex awoke the next day in a daze. He wondered-hoped-that the previous night had been a dream. _Had to be a dream_, he thought, _even if it was a really vivid one_. The hospital had scared the bejesus out of him, no wonder he was having nightmares- and of course it was only a matter of time before the new girl showed up in dreamland, too. Comforting himself with this explanation, he dressed as usual and went to school. His backpack was sitting by the door as it should have been. He'd probably never left it at the hospital.

Alex was in a surprisingly good mood by lunchtime. In fact, his entire day was going swimmingly. He had all his homework handed in on time, he'd actually done well on his math test, and right after the last bell rang the new girl, who he thought was cute, was coming over to talk to him.

"Hi," said Alex pleasantly. "It's Jay, right?"

Jay raised an eyebrow at him, "Very chipper today aren't we, spiderman?"

"Oh. . ." Alex's heart sank.

His dismay must have showed, because Jay took the edge off her voice, "Yes, unfortunately that all really happened. I thought I'd explain some things to you so you don't go insane."

* * *

><p>"And?" Jay asked. "What did I say?"<p>

"Monsters are real. Hunters hunt them. There was an entire nest of giant spiders under the abandoned hospital, and that nobody under any circumstances should dare anyone to go inside. One hell of a thing to say _not_ to make me go insane. Tons of kids had walked into the hospital."

"But it's knocked down now, so . . ."

"Well, you made that happen, incidentally." said Alex. "You burned the nest, and the city cleared out what was left."

"Oh, that's taken care of at least." Jay. "What does, um . . . 'salt-zoned' mean?"

Alex sighed. "I guess . . . well, it does mean a safe place. I made it up. It was my version of 'friend-zoned.' Except, you know, I didn't get rejected because you wanted to stay friends, I got rejected because you hunt monsters and it would be detrimental to my health to be around you too much."

Jay became interested in her shoelaces. "Does Liz know?" she asked.

Alex shook his head. "Nothing," he said, "You and I got to know each other a little better, and then I admitted that I had a crush on you, and you said no way in Hell ever, so you introduced Liz to me, because you knew she liked me."

"Well I sound like a great freaking person," Jay muttered. She didn't know if Alex heard, but he went on like he hadn't.

"So Liz and I were pretty good together," he said, "But I think she always sort of knew that she was, or, well, that you were . . . yeah. And then _foolishly _I brought up that I'd asked you out first-this was pretty recently, after I asked for a divorce-and she didn't take it well."

Jay's first instinct was to hang her head, but she sat up straight at the sound of approaching tires. "There's another thing I should tell you."

"I'm not going to like this, am I."

"Eh. You know those policemen that interviewed everyone today?" Jay asked, as Alex nodded along. "Well, they're brothers. We've been working together for a month or so."

"What? That meathead ape?" Alex asked, on the fence between laughter and disbelief, "I had resist punching him today."

"Sounds like Dean" Jay agreed, "You'll like Sam better, I promise. He's the younger one. The taller one."

Dean's silhouette waved at them with both arms, and he called, "Hey! Talking about us?"

Jay rolled her eyes. "They didn't want me to be here. Hang on." She stood up and stalked across the grass to where the Impala was parked. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Picking you up." Dean answered, as if he had done nothing wrong. He was not smiling.

Jay gritted her teeth. "Dude, I've already tried to explain this to you, but I'm going to say it clearly this time. _Mind. Your own. Business._ I know it's a _little_ hard for that pigeon-brain of yours to handle, but I can take care of myself."

"And you're doing a bang-up job proving it," Dean growled, "Running off in the middle of the night to meet a mysterious stranger because you have a _hunch_ that he might know you on some 'deeper level,' that's real mature."

"Quit trying to twist this," Jay said, "He's not a stranger, I _did_ know him, I didn't come here with any crap-ass notions of romanticism. And as long as we're talking about maturity, way to show up and crash my private meeting because things didn't go the way you wanted them to."

They stood glaring at each other.

"Alright, we shouldn't have interrupted," said Sam, but added, "But you should have told us you were on the way out."

"Why? You guys obviously found me anyways."

"Look, Jay," said Sam, more firmly, "You're annoyed, fine, but the thing is, _we're working a case. _Kids are dying. We're on the way to check out the school, and we need to get going. Are you coming or not?"

"You won't find anything there." Alex pointed out, startling them all.

"Oh, it _speaks_." said Dean. "Awfully tight on info while we were talking to you at school, weren't you? What do you know about it?"

Alex ignored this and directed his attention to Jay and Sam. "There were papers on the bodies. Symbols. Dirkins took them off, said they weren't important and he didn't want rumors of cults flying around."

The three hunters gaped.

"And you didn't bring this up today, _why_?" Dean asked. "What were you waiting for?"

"Hunters," Alex said stubbornly, "After the initial shock I. . . it was easier to pick them out."

Dean gestured at himself at Sam wildly. Alex rolled his eyes. "I know, I know," he said, "But you guys seemed like real policemen, and I already knew Jay was onto something."

"So . . .the symbols," said Sam, "Could you describe them?"

"No, not really," Alex rubbed his chin, "It all looks the same to me, sigils and stuff."

"Great. Thanks." Dean grunted.

"Shut your face," said Jay, "You have to send a picture to Bobby every time something comes up."

Jay had yet to meet Bobby Singer, who she imagined as a humanoid robot database, but she had shared a few words with him over the phone. In fact, she always tried to listen in on phone calls just to hear him call Dean an "idjit."

Sam continued a more successful interview with Alex. "So was the paper just lying on them? One piece or a bunch of shreds? Are there any left?"

"Dirkins burned them all. It looked like someone drew it in marker," Alex shrugged, "And it was just a piece of regular, lined notebook paper with the fringes still on. Just taped onto the back of each kid with scotch tape."

Sam, Jay, and Dean looked at each other.

"That sounds . . .not like a monster."

"Forget monsters," said Jay, her mind racing. "It sounds like a kid. It sounds like a reckless little high schooler. Lined paper and scotch tape? Cripes, they're not even trying. Angels or demons and we'd have found it on one of their organs."

"Or carved into their skin," Sam added.

"Paper? It just . . . makes no sense."

"We need the damn symbols," said Dean. "We've got to get into the school tonight."

Alex cleared his throat. Dangling from his hands was a key ring.

* * *

><p>"We'll split up," Jay said.<p>

"Famous last words," Dean commented, but gave no serious protest.

"I'm going with Sam," she said decisively.

"You can't be serious," said Dean, at the same time Alex said "You're leaving me with him?" They glared at each other.

"I'm the lock pick, he's the keys," Jay explained.

"I pick locks." Dean whined.

"Shooting locks doesn't count. You'd leave a trail of broken doors in your wake. Nobody will even know _I've_ been here, which is what we need. Now shut up and deal with each other."

Sam shrugged at the two of them, then followed Jay down the hall with a flashlight.

"So," said Dean, trying not to sound too hostile, "How did you know Jay?"

"We were friends in school." Alex said shortly.

"Friends." Dean said skeptically. "Sure."

"We met over a giant spider attack," Alex said.

Dean paused. "Sounds like her," he admitted. "Why didn't you tell us about the papers again?"

Alex shrugged, "Like I said. Didn't think the police could do much about it."

"You should have told Jay, then."

"I was working on it, before you interrupted."

"_Clearly_." Dean said, then went on, "I have to ask, though, man. Where do you think this is going, hm? She's a hunter."

Alex bristled. "I could ask the same of you. It's just what she does. Who she is. Being a hunter's got nothing to do with it." At this, Dean turned around and shined a flashlight at Alex.

"Who she is?" he repeated, "You haven't seen her in years. What would you know?"

"More than you," Alex said, "You guys have been with her for what? A month?"

"Yeah, and we've been through a lot," Dean pointed out, getting more and more irritated. "It's not something you'd understand. Because you're _not_ a hunter. You're not in the same life as us." The two were now face to face in the middle of the darkened hallway, a yard apart, and getting closer.

"Giant spider," Alex said bluntly, "And I've heard about-and seen-my fair share of ghosts and other stuff, too." he pointed a finger, "So even if I'm not 'in the life,' it's not like I've got zero experience, either."

Dean, to prove a point, took Alex's hand in one fist and twisted his arm behind his back. This would have been a wonderful, smug, Dean Winchester moment if the English teacher had not somehow wriggled out of his grip and pushed him backwards into the lockers, resulting in a loud clang. There were a few seconds when they grappled, still standing, and then it became an all-out fist fight on the floor.

Sam and Jay came running at the commotion, both alarmed, thinking that Alex and Dean had stumbled upon something more dangerous than a high schooler. At the sight of the two wrestling on the floor, Jay took ahold of the nearest coat-it was Dean's-and pulled with all her might while Sam worked on pushing them apart.

They eventually had them away from each other, with Jay pushing Dean back and Sam holding Alex. Dean made another lunge and Jay grabbed his arms and flipped him onto the ground. Judo skills were handy when you fought things twice your size.

"_Enough_!" she roared. "Both of you!"

"What the _hell_ was that?" She glared at both of them, one at a time, waiting for an answer. They looked away, rather sheepish. The left side of Alex's face was beginning to swell, and he had a cut lip. Dean sustained a black eye, a bloody nose, and the skin on his right cheek had split. Both were breathing as if they'd run a marathon.

"Do you think it's the Grail?" Sam suggested in her ear.

She had been wondering if that had been when sent them over the edge, but she was not ready to give them any sort of excuse. "Take care of Dean." she said. "I've got Alex-we'll meet at the motel soon. If anything worth finding was _hiding_ here, we're never going to find it now. Let's get going."

And so Jay kicked both of them out the door without speaking to either.


	11. Chapter 11

**Wow I am really sorry. It's been a long time. It's been like a _month_. **

**Anyways. Thanks for reading! I hope you like it :)**

** Chapter 11**

Jay arrived at school the next morning determined to be snappy. After making sure Alex arrived home safely, she had returned to the motel, curled up with Charlie and refused to speak a word to Dean. She had not been any happier when she awoke, and had been silent for the duration of the car ride to school.

It was not difficult to deal with the band kids, since they knew a bad mood when they saw one. They were all very obedient that morning, if not the best musicians. Jay grumped her way through her first free hour, choosing to sit outside despite the chilly weather and avoiding staff members. However, it became more difficult to stay sullen when Allison greeted her with a huge smile and a dozen homemade cupcakes.

"Technically we're not supposed to bring in homemade things," she admitted, "But Dirkins doesn't really mind. I gave him one this morning."

"Bet that pacified him," Jay said through a mouthful of red velvet. Allison giggled.

"Yeah. Want to take one to Alex? I can't be late for my next hour, I'm giving a chapter test."

Jay reluctantly took a cupcake. She wasn't sure what to do with Alex. It was easy to be angry at Dean, who had, after all, started the whole thing-she couldn't exactly blame Alex for fighting back, but she doubted it was entirely self-defense, either. Jay, considerably cheered up after the cupcake, decided not to give him too hard a time. His injuries were enough of a punishment.

"Alex, Allison wants me to give you this-"

"Look." Alex presented her with a folded piece of paper. Jay was mildly surprised.

"I brought you a cupcake," she finished lamely, setting the cupcake on the desk. "Now let me see clearly." Alex let her take the paper and she held it out in front of her at arms length. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Is this-?"

"Yes."

"Where did you-?"

"Marcus Darneson." Alex said grimly. "He's a sophomore. I collected notebooks today. Guess he just forgot it was in there."

"You're sure it's the same one?" Jay asked.

"Positive. Really similar, at least," Alex answered. He had ripped a page out of Marcus Darneson's notebook, a page with a large, detailed symbol written on it in blue pen.

Jay looked up. "I need to go." she said, turned heel and ran. Alex looked like he wanted to protest but said nothing. Jay used her time to call Sam, then Bobby, with the new information. Phone pictures were also quite useful. Bobby had the details in mere minutes; he was obviously familiar with the symbols.

"I've never seen this particular one. It's not in the books anywhere. But I found some similar ones. They're actually supposed to be painful on the physical and spiritual level." Bobby explained, "But clearly the kid missed the detailed instructions on where to carve these in the victims' skin."

Jay frowned. "Is the main point of the them just. . ._death_? Because I'd think writing them on a piece of paper would just cause a stubbed toe or something. There has to be some kind of other magic behind it, right?"

"Well it has to be written in blood, one way or another," Bobby said, "Otherwise it'd be useless."

"You said it was unique, sort of. What if he just made one up?"

"I said I'd never seen it before, doesn't mean nobody's used it before." Bobby clarified, "And it would take a lot of research to make your own sigil. It'd be likely to fail completely or blow up in your face if you're not careful."

"Thanks, Bobby," said Jay, "I'll call if something else comes up."

"Anytime. Bye."

"What's Marcus like?" Jay asked.

Alex considered the question. "Quiet. Pretty smart, straight-A student. Not very social, and his parents have never come to conferences. He's a very talented writer. I recall giving him extra credit because one of his short stories in my creative writing class was so good."

"Is he . . . troubled?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Creepy death runes aside, I wouldn't suspect so."

"Give me the short story. Call his parents and ask about him." Jay said. "I'll be back."

Jay called Sam and told him to look around the Darneson's place without bringing up the deaths. Then she interrupted Allison's math lesson.

"Sorry, guys, I have to borrow your teacher for a second." Jay said, waving Allison towards her.

"What's the matter?"

"When you found Carson Hardy in the hall-" at this Allison shut her eyes and shook her head as if to dispel images "-no, Allison, look at me. When you found him in the hall, did you see anything written on him?"

"Written on him?" Allison asked doubtfully.

"A paper or anything?"

"Well, yes," she said. "I mean, of course I didn't look too closely-but it looked like someone drew a sign and put it on his back. It's not uncommon."

Jay blinked. "It's . . . _not_?"

Allison shrugged. "Well, you know, kids these days . . . most of the time when you walk around someone's got something on their back that says 'KICK ME' or 'PUNCH ME' or something like that. Immature, really."

Jay exhaled. "Thanks. I'm sorry I had to ask, I just . . .yeah. Thanks for the cupcakes again. I'll see you later."

Sam and Dean showed up at the Darnesons' doorstep and told them there had been reports of suspicious persons around. Sam asked to use the bathroom while Dean, with Ms. Darneson's permission, explored the woods of their backyard. Sam came upon Marcus's room, and Dean discovered a dirty treehouse. Both gave a very clean, neat first impression. Sam searched under the bed, in the desk, the dresser, the closet, careful to put everything back in place. But there were no secret compartments, no ancient books or cursed materials. He finally resigned himself to reading the spines of the books on the bookshelf. Murder Runes for Dummies might pop up. He also checked some of the larger encyclopedias for hollowed-out hiding places, but once again, found nothing. Sam sighed and called Dean.

"Dean, it's Sam. This might be our last lead, tell me you have _something_."

Dean held the cell phone up to his ear with his shoulder. He was flipping through a binder that consisted of papers covered in plastic protectors due to the fact that they were probably hundreds of years old.

"Oh yeah," said Dean, "We're going to have to do something about this kid."

When they met, Sam also had a present that he had discovered after he'd hung up the phone.

"What's this?" Dean asked when Sam produced a notebook full of scribbles. Sam turned a few pages to reveal a variety of symbols etched into the paper.

"Practice," he answered. "Some pages are runes, but most of it's just. . . rambling. Ranting."

Dean read one line and said, "Sounds like a complete psycho." Sam gave him a disapproving look. "Dude have you _read_ this?" Sam snatched the notebook out of his hands and read the first line in the notebook aloud to Dean.

"'I have decided suicide is not the answer. Messy. Too much. Can't get caught. Research will take a while, but I can perfect this. They deserve it.' His handwriting evenlooks stressed. Look, Dean, I'm not saying what he did was justified, I'm just saying he was obviously pushed over the edge."

Jay met Marcus Darneson in the hallway when another student pushed him into her.

"I'm s-s-sorry," he muttered, bending down to pick up his stuff. Jay had kept a tight grip on her papers.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she said, standing him up. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." he said.

"Turn around a minute." Jay peeled the paper off his back. It read, in thick black letters, "PUSH ME_._" Her eyes narrowed. "What's your name? Who put this on you?"

"M-marcus. Darneson." he stuttered. He seemed unwilling or unable to answer who his tormentor was. Jay guessed, by the look of him, that it could be half the school. He was tall, lanky, and wore thick glasses and ugly clothes that were too big for him. He smelled. But Jay suspected these were not the main things that made him a prime target. He _acted_ small. The way he spoke, the way he moved, was like he was constantly shying away from sunlight. You just wanted to slap loudness into him. She considered taking him out of school right away and bringing him to Sam and Dean. But they hadn't called her yet. And he was harmless. In fact, he seemed afraid of her.

She said, "I'm going to track down the kid that pushed you."

At last the sophomore looked at her face instead of his feet, surprised. "Can you?" he blurted.

"He's right over there," said Jay, a tad insulted that he had to ask. "He stopped to talk to his friend. The idiot."

Jay made a show of strutting over to the boy, who was a full head taller than her, and shooing his friend away. "Excuse me," she began, in her most teacher-like voice. "What makes you think you can get away with that kind of behavior?" The boy in trouble smiled nervously, as if she were joking, and it all went downhill for him from there.

It was after she finished publicly humiliating the boy that Jay noticed Marcus was watching her with a kind of half-dazzled, half-shamed expression.

"That was cool." he said, smiling, and looking at his feet again. Good grief, he was like a baby rabbit, but without the benefits of being cute and cuddly. "You're Mr. Steppe's student teacher, right? Ms. Randall? Are you allowed to give detentions?"

Jay put her hands on her hips. "If I wasn't, I am now."

"Jay? It's him. Definitely the Darneson kid."

"No way." she said, with finality.

Dean paused. ". . . Are you kidding me? We've got psychotic journals and sigil research and everything. It was _stashed in his treehouse!_"

"And his room," Sam added in the background.

"I don't care _what_ you found." said Jay, "I met the kid. He doesn't have an ounce of killer in him. I'd be surprised if he doesn't cry for the cow when he eats a burger. It's something else. Maybe a brother."

"Single child," Alex chimed in. He and Jay were walking Charlie around town, seeing as Sam and Dean had to drive half an hour out of town to get to Darneson's house and were still on their way back after their investigation.

"Still can't be him," said Jay.

"Quit being stubborn," Dean snapped, "We've got more than enough _proof_. Just because you like the kid doesn't mean he's not capable of taking out his anger on people."

"And what do you suggest we do with him, huh? He's sixteen."

"He's killing people!"

"He's _not_. We'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Why not tonight? Sam and I-"

"Could turn around, knock out his parents and interrogate him? That'll go swimmingly. You know what else? Why are you talking and driving at the same time? Give the phone to Sam."

"Hi, Jay," said Sam, while Dean swore in the background.

"Here's what we'll do," said Jay, "We're going to bring him to you after school tomorrow. Call Cas ahead of time so he knows what's going down."

"Call Cas?"

"It's a good idea, don't you think? You guys obviously think it's him. I _know_ it can't be. Maybe he's possessed. Infected. Split personality. Whatever."

Sam sighed, "I guess calling Cas is a safe bet. He'll know what's going on."

"Who's Cas?" Alex asked after Jay hung up.

"An angel." said Jay.

Alex took this surprisingly well. "Wasn't expecting that."

At the motel, Jay lay on her stomach on the bed with the journal and binder pages spread out in front of her. Charlie rested his head in the small of his back and growled quietly whenever Dean came too close. The dog had obviously picked up on the remains of their argument.

"Something's wrong," she said. "The sigils don't match up."

"They shouldn't be exact, if he was experimenting with them." Sam pointed out.

Jay shook her head. "No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean they're _completely_ different. They're not even from the same culture or time period. These have nothing to do with each other. I mean, the ones in the notebook are sort of similar to the one Alex found."

"But Bobby said he'd never seen that particular rune before, right? Maybe he combined them?" Sam leaned over the pages to compare them.

Jay considered the mess before her. She sent a picture of the binder-page sigils to Bobby, then put them aside, temporarily removing them from the equation in her mind.

"Okay. So you have this kid, who is bullied a lot." she began, "He is bothered in particular by people putting abusive signs on his back. He wants revenge. He goes crazy."

"A-ha! So you admit-"

"Shut up, Dean. He hasn't gone completely insane or we would've had a full bloody mess on our hands. He can't be a demon or we'd have a full bloody mess on our hands. He can't be a ghost because he's solid, and we'd have a full bloody mess on our hands. He can't be anything but human, or we'd have a friggin' bloody mess on our hands. But something has to be a little bit wrong with him, or else we wouldn't have dead guys at all."

"Thank you, Sherlock. Now can we-" Charlie barked, interrupting him. _Shut up, Dean._

"Which leads me to believe," Jay concluded, "That these sigils" she held up the binder, "have to do with what's wrong with him, and _these _ones" she held up the notebook, "are the only things actually killing people. Now, we just have to wait for Bobby to call." As if on cue, the phone rang. Jay flipped it open and said, "Bobby! What have you got?"

"Zombies," said Bobby.

Jay frowned. "Beg pardon?"

"Zombies," he repeated. "They're sigils for raising the dead. Got any dead folk walking around over there?"

"No," said Jay. "That's all they're for?"

"You betcha," Bobby said. "Raising them, preserving them, keeping them under control. . . that sort of thing."

"Okay," said Jay, stretching out the word. "I will um. . . call you back. Maybe."

"Yes, do tell." said Bobby, "Because from what you've been sending me, you've got a shitstorm over there."

"So? What's the deal?" Dean asked, impatient.

"They're. . . zombie-raising sigils." Jay said finally.

Dean groaned. "_JE-_sus. Can't we catch a break?"

"It makes no sense." Jay said, "None of the victims have risen from the dead. The graveyard's completely untouched."

"Maybe they're not his." Sam speculated.

"Oh definitely," Dean rubbed his face, exhausted, "We just found them in his friggin' treehouse."

"Did it look used?" Sam asked.

"The treehouse? Not really. Dusty as hell. Old. Rotted out."

"Then maybe it wasn't his," Sam repeated. "Maybe someone else was just storing it there. He does live out in the middle of nowhere. Kind of a nice hiding place."

"Maybe someone's planning on using them," said Dean. "Bunch of fresh dead? Could be useful."

"I don't think so." Sam said. He took the notebook from Jay. She didn't protest. She was sick of studying symbols. He flipped through the pages again. A look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. "Wait a minute. We've forgotten something."

"I didn't forget _anything_." Jay muttered.

"Page one." he presented the notebook to Jay, open to the first page of mad scrawls.

Jay skimmed the page with tired eyes. "What am I looking for?"

"The very first sentence!" Sam pointed and trailed his finger on the first line. "Marcus tried to commit suicide."


	12. Chapter 12: A Demonstration

**Look I have the next one already! Once again, I apologize for any silly spelling/grammar mistakes, and thanks for reading!**

**Chapter 12: A Demonstration**

"He tried to commit suicide and raised himself from the dead?" Jay asked.

"No, no, his parents!" Dean said, catching on. "He _is_ their only kid."

"And he smells," Jay contributed. But she was less than enthusiastic about the idea. "And he's also got a personality and doesn't eat every person in the hallway. May I remind you that the victims were untouched?"

Sam and Dean deflated.

Jay sighed. "I'm tired. Let's just wait for Cas."

Sam and Dean looked at each other and shrugged. "Yeah. Alright."

Castiel shed some considerable light on the situation the next day.

"He _is_ a zombie." he said, "He has the sigils on him."

"Ha!" Dean said triumphantly. Jay scowled.

"But he also has his soul. It's quite interesting."

Jay, Dean, and Sam exchanged looks. Marcus was out like a light, lying on the bed with a peaceful look on his face. Courtesy of Cas's one-touch knockout.

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"Could you. . . elaborate?" Jay suggested.

"Physically, his body is dead. Or it should be." Cas explained, "He died, and someone reanimated him, that much is clear. But his soul is still there. It's just. . . impure, so to speak. It's a ghost. He's being possessed by a ghost."

"He's a zombie with a soul _and_ he's being possessed by a ghost? What the hell?" Dean asked.

"I should have clarified," Cas went on. "He's physically a zombie, and he's being possessed by _his own_ ghost-an impure form of his would-be soul."

"I am so confused." said Jay.

"No, wait a second," said Sam, "That makes sense. I mean, sort of. If Marcus was bullied into committing suicide, he might have become an angry spirit, or something like that. And if his parents raised him from the dead. . . maybe he just decided to possess himself?"

"There is a certain attraction between a soul and its respective body," said Castiel, "It's why angels and demons must choose their vessels accordingly. Not all human bodies could handle being possessed. Lucifer's vessel is wasting away because it is matched with the wrong soul."

"This. Is so. Messed. Up." said Jay. "He looks like a normal kid! He's _living_ like a normal kid! I mean, he's got all his skin and he's not rotting away-seriously."

"It is obviously a possibility. He does have his old body and fragments of his old soul, and he's in familiar conditions," said Cas, "But he _is_ being possessed by a vengeful spirit, and it's driving him to do violent things, conscious or otherwise. Also, I'm surprised he's lasted this long. The undead do need sustenance. But, according to you, he hasn't eaten any flesh."

"None," said Jay. "As far as we know."

"Little bit less confident, are we?" Dean taunted.

"Well _he_ wouldn't have killed anyone," said Jay, "I mean, maybe he ate a cat or something. But, technically he's not himself anymore, is he?" She looked to Cas for confirmation.

"An interesting question. His soul is certainly not in the condition it was before." Cas answered, "And putting it in a tortured, deteriorating body would have only exacerbated the situation."

"So how do we kill it?" Dean asked. "Salt and burn the bones so the ghost and the zombie go away?"

"Dean!"

"C'mon, Jay. He might think he's a kid half the time, but the other half he's going around killing people. He's _planning _it. He's not human anymore! We can't fix him!"

"What are we going to do with his parents?" Jay asked, "They were obviously crazier than he was, and they weren't trying to do anything wrong. They just wanted their son back."

"Jay, he's already dead," said Dean. "He had his chance, and he obviously wasn't too keen on it in the first place. So, I hate to tell you live your life and all that, but he's not exactly the best candidate for your sympathies, alright?"

Jay could not manage an adequate response to this, but she managed to splutter an outraged "No!"

Sam put a hand on her shoulder. "Jay," he said firmly, "What can we do?"

"But. . . I mean. . ." she looked at Marcus, as if hoping he'd wake up and prove them wrong.

"He is not breathing," Castiel commented. Jay might have glared, but she had the feeling he was trying to help. "He doesn't need to, he's undead."

"I mean, it doesn't make sense," she said, sitting in a chair by the bed. "Why would he kill people and then not eat them? It's not just ignoring pure instinct, it's fighting against it."

"I assume the spirit was in full control when the sigils were drawn," Castiel said, "Part of him seems to have reverted back to a childish stage. And I assume, as Jay pointed out, that he is following patterns of his regular life. Hence the common material."

"Still written in blood, though." Dean said. "Now, what are we going to do about his parents? They didn't exactly seem like the satanic worshipper type."

As Sam and Dean discussed this matter, Jay slumped into a chair next to the bed. She looked at Marcus and imagined having to tell his parents that she had killed their already-deceased son. She could not imagine a thrilling reaction from them.

"Marcus Darneson," muttered Jay, absentmindedly, "Poor kid. And a straight-A student, too. Your soul is probably still squeaky clean. I bet you would've become a doctor or something. Bet you could've solved world hunger. Well, maybe not. But you would've had a good time trying."

Some morbid inclination moved her hand to his forehead; she scratched gently to see if the skin would peel off or something like that. None did, so instead she just rested her hand there and sighed over the waste of life.

And this is when Marcus opened his eyes and sat up.

This was not entirely unexpected. After all, he was undead and still prone to movement and other human-esque activities, but Jay jumped out of her seat and fell backwards just the same and Charlie began to bark hysterically.

"GUYS!"

Charlie jumped on the bed next to Marcus (who looked very confused) and continued to yap.

"Shit, Cas, you said it would hold!" Dean snapped, immediately reaching for a gun.

"It should have, I-"

"_Put that gun away!_" Jay screamed at Dean. "Charlie!" She motioned for him to come, but the mutt just stood by Marcus on the bed and barked like there was no tomorrow.

"Dean, wait a second!" Sam pushed the gun down and Dean just resisted pulling the trigger.

"What!" Dean growled.

"Dog," said Sam, breathing hard, like he could barely believe himself.

"Yes, I realize the dog is there!" Dean shouted over Charlie's barking.

"What is going on?" This was Marcus, also yelling over Charlie. The mutt finally silenced at the sound of his voice and then spun in a circle and lay on his lap. Marcus pushed him off, using the pillow as a barrier. "I'm allergic to dogs," he explained to the group of shocked faces. Then he sneezed, as if to prove a point.

Dean looked at Castiel. "He sneezed." he said. "He sneezed, is that normal?"

Castiel looked directly at Jay and did not shift his gaze. "How strange."

Jay looked away. It was like being interrogated, even if she didn't know what she'd done wrong.

Marcus didn't make a move to get off the bed, but his hands were awfully twitchy. He turned to the one familiar face in the room.

"Um. Ms. Randall," he started. "What's going on?"

Not a single believable story came to Jay's mind. It was, at the moment, the arctic tundra for ideas.

"Cas," said Jay, pointing at Marcus. Castiel strode briskly to the bed and touched Marcus's forehead. The kid crumpled immediately.

"Okay, is he going to _stay_ asleep this time?" Dean asked.

"Technically he wasn't asleep the first time." Cas pointed out.

"Whatever. The point is, what the _hell_ just happened?"

"Actually, I am mildly surprised that you haven't guessed it yourself." Cas answered. He looked pointedly in Jay's direction, and inevitably the focus shifted to her.

Jay held her hands up in surrender, "Okay, I did not have anything to do with this."

"Of course you did," said Cas, "The boy is human again. Alive. Whole. This is the work of the Grail."

"Whoa, are you smiling?" Dean asked. "What are you so happy about?"

"Don't you understand? This is proof of power. The Grail is not out of reach." He turned to Jay again and put his hands on his shoulders. "Thank you."

"But I don't know how I . . . I don't know what . . ." Jay protested meekly.

"It doesn't matter right now, Jay. I will find Balthazar," Cas said with renewed confidence, and then he was gone.

"Okay, what the hell-" Dean began.

"No, wait a second," Jay interrupted, "I know you're going to get all frustrated and stuff, but let's just look at the situation here. Marcus is back to normal, perfectly healthy. We can leave him alone."

"Yeah, by _accident_. Did you even feel anything?"

"No," Jay admitted. She turned her hands over in front of her eyes and considered trying some kind of mojo on the boys. Maybe slap some respect into Dean. "Who cares? Let's give him back to his parents and blow this popsicle stand!"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Pretty upbeat, aren't you?"

"How are you guys not absolutely psyched about this?" Jay asked. "According to Cas I just saved a kid! Okay? Is that not awesome?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other, then at Marcus, who was once again lying peacefully on the bed-this time, snoring.

"Guess we're a little skeptical is all," Sam said, but he had a small smile on his face. Dean remained silent.

"Everything worked out, eh?" Alex asked. They stood outside the front doors of the school, watching students stream in.

Jay nodded. "Yup. Cas cleared his memory, Dean threatened the parents not to do this again. . . you know, the usual business."

"Ah, the usual," Alex chuckled, and Jay joined in.

"It was worth all the trouble, you know," said Jay, "Just to see the look on their faces when they realized he was breathing."

"Did they say thanks?"

Jay shrugged. "Not really. But, you know, most people don't. I think it's the shock."

"Actually, I don't think I ever got around to it either," Alex reflected. "Thanks."

"You are very welcome," Jay chuckled. There was a short silence between them, postponing the inevitable.

"Guess you won't be sticking around much longer, then." Alex said finally. He raised an eyebrow when she didn't answer right away.

"You know, I was trying to find a good way to say it," said Jay, "I should've had to say 'Sorry, Alex, ol' buddy ol' pal, I can't stick around much longer.' I could have at least hinted at it first."

Alex shrugged. "Nah. If we had to wait for you to say it, you'd be here till Christmas."

"So you get to say all my departure lines?"

"Sure. We can't have you waiting around here all day. You've got places to go, monsters to kill, that sort of thing. See you later, alligator, in a while, crocodile, can't stay for lunch, I have to get a shotgun and rock salt before dark."

This got a hearty laugh out of Jay. "Seriously, though, what's my cue? When do I leave, what do I say?"

Alex considered this, "Well, Sam and his jerkweed brother will pull up any minute now, I'm guessing."

"They won't, we weren't going to leave until lunch."

"Shush, I got this. Then you will pinch my cheeks and say 'Adios, Alex, I'm off to save the world, which never says thank you.' And then off you'll go, and I will stand here and wonder if you'll still be just as young and beautiful when I'm seventy and you come and visit me."

"You're pretty good at this," said Jay.

"Yeah, well, these are the goodbyes you didn't give me last time." He said it nonchalantly, as if he'd just let it slip, and indeed right after the words left his mouth he looked surprised and regretful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"I know," said Jay. The stream of high schoolers subsided except for a few late stragglers, who Alex barked at, and then the patio was empty.

Jay said abruptly. "I hate this."

"Yeah."

She thought she should explain, "I don't mean I hate you, or talking to you, or-"

"Yeah, I know," said Alex with a smile.

"I just meant-"

"Yeah, I know."

A cell phone rang, and both she and Alex went for their pockets immediately.

"It's mine," said Jay, holding it up as evidence. "Sam?"

"Change of plans, we're leaving soon." Sam's voice sounded rushed, "We'll get your stuff and pick you up at school. Be ready in like five minutes."

"But-but-Sam wait-Don't forget anything!" Jay yelled into the phone. She wondered if Sam caught it.

"Leaving early?" Alex asked, with little surprise. "Oh, come on, you look like you just ate the last cookie. In the whole world. It's not _that_ bad."

"Good to know baked goods are held above my guilt for leaving." said Jay.

"Don't even worry about it," he said.

Jay gaped. "But you yelled at me for leaving last time!"

He shrugged. "Yeah, but back then you left without any notice whatsoever. This time I get time to cope with the fact that you're leaving, see?"

"I hate this!" Jay yelled, and then began with "I mean-"

"Look, Jay, I _know_. I get it."

But she felt even worse that he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, because she had no idea what was circling around in his head.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she demanded, "Right now."

He raised his eyebrows. "O-kay?"

"No, really. Tell me."

He looked up. "It's unusually nice weather for having you around. Cloudy days, storms, nighttime is more your forte."

"That's it? What else?"

"It's weird to see you squirm like this," said Alex, analytically.

"What? I am not _squirming_."

"Yeah, you are. It's refreshing, actually. Because, you know, up and running is good for you, but it's a lot easier for me to see you go this way. It's the difference between quitting cold turkey and getting on nicotine gum, or something. By the way,did you say goodbye to Allison?"

She looked away. "No," she muttered.

"Guess you'll just have to have that on your conscience, too. Darn, she probably would have smothered you in hugs and tears. Would have been a very nice learning experience."

Jay finally looked up, disgruntled. "You're messing with me, aren't you."

He grinned. But his smile faltered at the sound of Jay's phone ringing once again. She ignored it.

"Three wishes, right now, what would they be?" Jay asked.

"Three? At a time like this, I think you're supposed to ask for just the one."

"Alex!"

"I'm just saying. One wish in the whole world makes more sense than asking-"

"Okay, _one_."

"Realistic or improbable?"

"What! Nobody _asks_ that, of course they're supposed to be improbable!"

"Well. I don't know."

The Impala had pulled up to the school and Sam and Dean were waiting inside.

"You can't be serious. I'm about to leave, I ask you an important question and you can't answer it?"

"Well, geez, what would you wish for?"

"First thing that comes to mind?" she said. "I'd wish-"

"To be able to die a peaceful death, in your sleep." Alex finished. "You wouldn't mind being cold, alone, whatever. You'd just want the last thing you see _not_ to be a demon."

"I wasn't going to say that," said Jay, "But, yes. Spot on."

"It's funny," said Alex, "Because we've had this conversation before. I'm having some intense deja vu right now."

"I _told_ you that?"

He looked almost hurt. "Of course."

"Did you tell me yours?"

"Yeah."

"What was it?"

Dean honked the horn impatiently. Jay gave him the finger.

"Alex. You're like, forty, right?"

"What? You think I'm _forty_? Okay, I know you're going to be young forever and all that, but this is ridiculous. I'm only thirty-two."

"So then, this won't be _that_ unacceptable." And with that, Jay grabbed ahold of his tie, yanked him down to her level and kissed him.

When they separated, he was speechless, so Jay took the opportunity to pinch his cheek and say, "In a while, crocodile, and don't forget to write." And she jogged backwards towards the Impala, savoring each of the conflicted expressions that crossed his face. Then, at last, she slid into the Impala and waved from the window as they drove away.


	13. Chapter 13: Colt

**Look, another chapter! Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are much appreciated.**

**Chapter 13: Colt**

"Jasmine? Jessica? Jackie?"

"No, no, no, _no_." Jay was beginning to get annoyed.

"Oh come _on_," Dean begged, "What do you want me to do, get a baby book?"

"Why do you need to know?" She had told him that "Jay" was a nickname in order to make him stop telling her it was a man name, and to satisfy some of his curiosity. It had, in fact, exacerbated the situation.

"Joyce? Is it Joyce?" he asked. "What about Julia?"

Jay threw up her hands. "No! Now quit asking!"

Dean sulked in the driver's seat, Sam looked over the map of the city, and Jay stared out the window, thinking of how the place had put in her in a sullen mood since they arrived. She could not place it, but something was very off here, and she didn't think it had anything to do with what they were investigating. She mulled over it while scowling at the cheerful Christmas decorations.

"I swear, if I hear another version of Jingle Bells, heads will roll."

Charlie whined apologetically and rested his head on her leg. Jay patted his head, but didn't look away from the window.

"Bit of a grinch?" Sam asked carefully. He wasn't sure if it was a touchy subject.

"Oh, if that's the case, you and Sammy will get along just fine," Dean said. "I can't believe I have to spend the season with _two_ natural Scrooges." Sam glared at him, then glanced at Jay to see what kind of reaction she had. She had not acknowledged either of them. Sam nudged Dean and nodded for him to look at Jay in the rearview mirror. She stared, unseeing, out the window, possibly concentrating on all the Christmas spirit she'd kill with a glare.

"Um. You okay?" Sam asked.

"Fine." she muttered. "I'm just tired."

Sam and Dean had a silent argument using only facial expressions and minimal hand gestures. It was a tennis match of responsibility-_Say something. No, you say something. I don't even know where to start! Just try anything._

"Jordan?" Dean suggested.

Jay finally turned away from the window to give Dean a rather annoyed, skeptical look. "Charlie, get him," she said. Charlie stood up, unbalanced in the moving car, placed his forepaws on the front seat and gave Dean a wet willy. Dean jerked his head away and frantically wiped at his ear, keeping one hand on the steering wheel.

"Geez! I'm driving here!"

Jay smiled, but it was short-lived. She was exhausted. She had been unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time during the last week. She periodically awoke, sweating and shaking, from nightmares the likes of which she'd never had. Even Charlie's familiar weight and breathing were only so much comfort during the night. It was to the point where she was afraid to go to sleep.

"What's this gun we're looking for again?" she asked, distracting herself.

"The Colt," said Sam, "I'm surprised you haven't heard of it."

"Yeah, well," Jay muttered, "And you think this will kill the devil?"

"It kills anything," Dean answered, "That's the point."

"How are you going to get close enough to get a sot at the devil?" Jay asked, "I mean, won't that be a _little_ difficult?"

"Won't that be a little difficult?" Dean mimicked, "Yeah, because the rest of our lives have been a walk in the freakin' park."

"It's a work in progress," Sam admitted, "But first things first. We need the Colt."

"There are probably _millions_ of guns known as 'colts.'" Jay pointed out, "How do we know this is the one?"

"It's old, latin inscription, has a pentagram on the handle . . . we've used it before," said Sam.

"What happened to it?"

"Well, we . . . it was stolen."

"So you lost it," said Jay, raising an eyebrow.

"It was taken!" Dean said defensively, "Forcefully taken!"

"How do you know it's here?" Jay asked.

"A prophet told us," said Sam. "Chuck. We told you about him."

"How will you know it's not a fake?"

"We'll shoot something with it." said Dean, "Hopefully that dick, Crowley."

"I can tell you've really thought this one through, guys. I can't wait to be the distraction for this ingenious plan."

"Shaddup."

* * *

><p>Castiel paid them a visit that night and was in a mood that somewhat resembled cheerful until Dean and Sam told him of their plan to retrieve the Colt from Crowley. Castiel was alarmed that they had even approached the general vicinity.<p>

"You have to leave as soon as possible." he said.

Dean stared at him. "Cas, I realize your angel mojo is a little bit off, but try to understand. We're getting the Colt. Our chance to _killLucifer_. Okay, and Crowley probably has some kind of anti-angel signs on his doorway, but it's nothing we can't handle. We even have Jay as backup."

"Yes, that is what worries me," Cas said, "_You_ try to understand, Dean. _She_ is potentially the most powerful asset that we could have in this war. I applaud your efforts, but I cannot allow you to bring the Grail straight into Crowley's hands."

"I guess we didn't think of that." said Sam.

"But you said it yourself, Cas, nobody but Balthazar knows how to get to that power." said Dean.

"Well let's not grant him the opportunity to find out how." Cas said coldly. "She takes no part in this. Understood?"

"Do I get an opinion?" Jay asked, her tone acidic.

She was taken aback when Dean and Cas answered, "No," at the same time.

"I was kidding," said Dean under the heat of her glare.

"I apologize if I have offended you," said Cas, "But you cannot comprehend the importance of the Grail, and therefore are incapable of passing judgement on the subject."

* * *

><p>Castiel could see a multitude of emotions flicker behind her eyes, each threatening an outburst. To her credit, she kept them under control, and soon they subsided. Castiel was often relieved at Jay's self-control. He wondered what ridiculous tantrums he might've had to deal with if Balthazar had chosen a different human. But then, that was probably the reason his brother had chosen the girl.<p>

Jay finally submitted, "Okay." Castiel felt an inkling of doubt as to whether her word could be trusted, but pushed it away. Doubt was what had landed him in this mess in the first place.

Cas turned his head upwards suddenly; Dean and Sam flinched. And, yes, there it was. A hint of recognition in celestial wavelength. Balthazar. _Finally_.

"I must go," he said, "Wait for me, if you can. I may be able to help you retrieve the Colt."

He transported himself to an abandoned building in Los Angeles and stood outside, observing the area. It was a drab neighborhood, wrought with sin. Just the place for Balthazar to conduct his antics.

Sure enough, Balthazar was inside. In fact, he appeared to be expecting Cas.

"Brother!" Balthazar greeted cheerily. "Join me for a drink?"

"I don't need sustenance," Cas said.

Balthazar frowned. "You think you'd have at least learned how to _drink_ from those idiots you associate with."

"What are you planning?" Cas asked, suspicious of the lack of traps in the building. The had been reassembled and redecorated liberally, resulting in a much more upscale, sophisticated atmosphere.

"Absolutely nothing," said Balthazar airily, "Well that's not exactly right. We do need to talk. About Jay, obviously."

"Her mind is closed to me. I can't read her at all." Cas said, "Is she human any more?"

"Cas, you need to _relax_. Always jumping to the most dramatic conclusions. I have taken measures to hide and protect her, obviously. Care to sit?"

"No."

Balthazar sighed. "Very well. I can see you've still got a stick up your ass."

"Tell me how to get the Grail." Castiel demanded. "I don't care that you've chosen this path, Balthazar, just tell me how to separate them!"

"Why in the cosmos would you want to do that?"

"Because I need-"

"Yes, I realize you need it, you fool." Balthazar said icily, "You've made that abundantly clear. What you need to understand is the ingenuity of what I've done."

"What have you done?" Castiel asked, exasperated.

"I've given the Grail a body and a soul," said Balthazar, "And you of all people should support this, because you of all people know the stubborn will of humans. Oh, and to ease your worry, I _have_ chosen the right one. I did my research."

"What makes you think that she is _suitable_ for the Holy Grail?"

Balthazar grinned suddenly. "Trust me, brother. Oh, but you would smite me on the spot."

Castiel tilted his head. He did not encourage Balthazar to go on about Jay's identity. "I don't care. Tell me how to separate the two."

"Well, they're one and the same now, aren't they? Tricky business, melting down a holy artifact so that it's on the same wavelength as an individual soul. I suppose you could separate all the little bits of Grail out, but you'd basically be leaving her as an empty shell." He wagged a finger. "I would advise against this, because, as you know, she is acquainted with the Winchesters now. The Grail by itself is a tool only, to be used freely by whomever carries it. Jay is a soldier, and she's on our side. She chooses where her loyalties lie."

Castiel considered this. "It's useless if she can't access the power."

Balthazar pulled a cigar out of thin air and lit it with a snap of his fingers. "Oh, she can access it. She simply needs to learn."

"The Apocalypse is just over the horizon and you've commandeered the only chance we have of stopping it! The Grail could be used to fight Lucifer!"

"Or it could sit around eating chips if it wants, thanks to me," Balthazar said smugly.

Castiel seethed. "Balthazar!"

"Well, how's she ever going to learn if you confine her to a hotel room while those boys go hunt Crowley?"

"You've been following them." It was not a question.

"Every move, of course. Every word, every action. Whatever thoughts I can glean." Balthazar asserted. "She's catching on, and she doesn't even know it."

"How?" Castiel asked, this time genuinely interested, "I know she restored the zombie boy."

"Yes, and she's been working her magic on the Winchesters. Unintentionally, of course."

"I cannot see a difference in them."

Balthazar tapped the side of his head, "Nightmares, Cas. She's having their nightmares."

"So it promotes a telepathic link."

"No, you fool. Well, I suppose it does, but that's not the point. She's doing what the Grail is meant to do. She's healing."

"This doesn't explain-"

"She's not sharing their dreams, Cas. She's having their dreams instead of them. The two have had undoubtedly the most peaceful week of sleep since their mommy died. And you may have failed to notice because you're an unsympathetic git, but it's taking a toll on her."

Balthazar's cigar had burned down to a quarter of its original size.

Castiel paused, and thought about his next words. "You seem unusually _invested_."

"I have put a lot of work into her," Balthazar said stiffly, "The first few years, she had trouble adapting. And I am convinced, brother, that this could never been done again, with any other soul. So let's not make any hasty decisions."

"And if I should decide to retrieve the Grail without your permission?" Castiel asked.

"I'll entertain the idea," Balthazar replied, "It would be a delicate process, of course. You would not be allowed to let a single particle of one mingle with the other. Jay's soul would undoubtedly be decimated beyond any recognition."

"That doesn't sound extraordinarily difficult." Cas deadpanned.

"Yes, I imagine if it was a dormant soul it would be a relatively simple operation." Balthazar eyed his brother, venomous, "But I should warn you, Cas-a soul like that, with that much power integrated into it, well, it might fight back. That would complicate things quickly. And, of course, if you tried I would have to stab you through the heart."

"I see," said Castiel. "What if she dies?"

"She can't die." said Balthazar, "She can experience pain, injury, near-death . . . she can't _die_, it's impossible. The Grail would automatically heal her."

"And if Crowley knew about her? If he got his hands on the Grail?"

"She'd blow off his filthy head, along with anyone else who tried to catch her," Balthazar said quite calmly. "And that, brother, is why merging the Grail with the soul of a human is one of my more brilliant ideas."

* * *

><p>"Well this sucks." said Jay, her arms twisted behind her.<p>

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "An astute observation, my dear." He reached into a desk and withdrew a pistol. Jay saw Sam and Dean, held by demons on either side of her, struggle against their captors.

"Is that it?" she muttered to Dean. He nodded grimly.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Crowley held the Colt up to the dim light.

"A normal gun would do the job" said Jay, looking closer at it, "Seems like a waste to use on us."

"And so it does," said Crowley, and aimed the gun at Dean. This time, Jay joined in the pointless struggle. On the first shot, Jay shut her eyes and flinched away. After the second and third, she felt the grip on her arms loosen and slowly opened her eyes. The three demons that held them lay dead on the floor.

"Well, now that we're finished with that mess," Crowley sighed. He set the Colt on the desk and brushed off his hands. "Good to see you again."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "We've never met," said Sam.

"Not you two, idiot," said Crowley. He gestured at Jay. "Her."


	14. Chapter 14: Doggonit

**Ahaha. I was silly and forgot to add "this is an important item" bits about the bracelet. Whoops. I think there's some mention of it in the first few chapters. Well she has one and it's important.**

**Don't forget to read Crowley's dialogue in a British accent.**

**Chapter 14: Doggonit**

Jay glanced around just to make sure that the King of the Crossroads was not talking to anyone else. She pointed at herself and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes, my dear." said Crowley, "Oh, and no need to introduce me to your new friends. I've heard enough about them. I didn't realize you were actively saving the world these days. It was more of a hide-and-seek thing back then."

Jay looked at Sam and Dean, unsure of herself. Dean shrugged. "Me?" she asked aloud, just to be sure.

Crowley tilted his head at her, grinning. "I know you don't remember, Jay. I just like to have a bit of fun with you."

"Can I have the gun as a welcoming gift?" She tried to ask smoothly, and did a reasonable job considering her nervousness.

The demon smiled. "Certainly," he said, and surprised all of them by placing it into her open palm.

"Oh." Jay held it in both hands like she was holding a toy. The Colt had a pleasant, familiar weight to it.

"You know, last time we met you interrupted perhaps the most beneficial deal of my career."

Jay looked at Sam and Dean again, hoping for backup, but they were just as lost as she was. "Holy shit, Jay," Dean muttered.

She shrugged. "Sorry?"

Sam took the gun from Jay's hands and pointed it at Crowley. Jay felt a faint tugging at her heart, a trace of an impulse, and thought about reaching out to stop him. But she stood perfectly still and watched him pull the trigger.

_Click._

"Ah," Crowley reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a leather package of bullets, "I'd forgotten the ammunition." He tossed the package to Dean, who caught it against his chest with both hands.

"Okay, this is way out of my league," said Dean. "What is going on?"

"It's quite simple, actually," said Crowley. "You want to kill Lucifer. I want you to kill Lucifer. We're all in agreement, then?"

"Why do you want us to take out your boss?" Sam asked.

Crowley turned his attention to him. "Because, my dear boy, after the Apocalypse is said and done, he's going to drop us like flies."

"But he created you," said Sam."

"Well, my _boss_, as you put it, hates humans." Crowley growled. "He thinks of you as bugs, running around in his house. Filthy things, unworthy of the love his father gives them. Now, imagine how he must feel about . . . us. To him we are the lowest of the low, worse than humans. Tools, nothing more."

"You've packed," said Jay, with a sudden sense of deja vu. "And you're headed out, are you?"

Crowley pointed a finger at her with a smile. "She's got it, then. I'm headed somewhere warm."

"What if he finds out you gave us the Colt?" Dean asked.

"There'll still be a grand old punishment, but, I'll just make up an excuse of how Jay charmed me into handing it over," Crowley said, and waggled his eyebrows. Jay took a small, involuntary step back.

She blushed at the looks Sam and Dean gave her, then spoke to Crowley, "I don't know you," she muttered.

"Course not, course not," he grinned. "That angel did quite a number on you, dear, and I was aware of most of it. Care to know thyself?"

"I'm going to let Charlie in," Jay stated. She had made the mutt wait outside, despite his usefulness.

Dean and Sam turned their attention to Crowley once Jay was out of sight.

"Just like that?" said Sam, holding up the Colt.

"Just like that." Crowley confirmed. "Wait, did she say-NO! JAY IF THAT MUTT PEES ON THIS CARPET-"

Charlie's furious barks came in return, echoing from the distant entryway. He came rushing into the room, Jay trailing a few yards behind, and went straight for Crowley's ankles.

"I-HATE-THIS-DAMNED-DOG!" Crowley yelled, trying to shake Charlie off. He finally snapped his fingers and summoned a short burst of flame around his own feet. Charlie yipped and ran back to Jay. He stood between her legs and growled. Jay bent down to gauge his burns and shot a glare at Crowley.

"You're bloody lucky I don't call _my_ pup over," he grumbled. He was not talking to Jay. Charlie growled louder. "Bloody dog."

"My poor baby," Jay crooned, holding Charlie's head gently. She snapped at Crowley, "What the hell was that?"

The King of the Crossroads straightened his suit and brushed himself off. "Well, Jay, you and I have a history, and so do your mutt and I. Cur."

Charlie went on snarling. Jay went from angry to curious. She looked at Sam and Dean.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"There is some serious backstory here," muttered Dean, "And honestly, I don't give a rat's ass about it. We gotta go."

Jay looked at Sam, guilty of her curiosity. "One more piece of the puzzle," she said. "Ten minutes?"

"Five tops," said Sam, "We've got Satan to kill. And," he looked at Crowley, "Dean and I stay for the whole thing." Jay nodded.

"And so the cat becomes curious," Crowley smirked, "Should we play a game of twenty questions? Or five minutes, whichever comes first. I'm thinking of a person."

"How old?" Dean asked.

"I never!" exclaimed Crowley in mock disdain, "Asking a woman's age! And that's not how twenty questions works."

"We don't have time for yes or no," said Jay. "Tell us or I'll have Charlie pee on your carpet."

Charlie lifted a leg to demonstrate this threat. Crowley gritted his teeth.

"Very well, very well . . . I'm leaving the damn house anyway, you know. . ."

"How old?" Dean repeated.

"Honestly even I can't say for sure," said Crowley, "The angel plucked you out of the 1400s, brought you to the 1800s . . . it's a very blurry timeline. I'm going to guess three hundred. And looking good."

Jay let her mouth fall open. "_Three hundred?_"

Sam put a hand on her shoulder, "Identity crisis later," he advised. "How do you know her?"

"Me? Well," Crowley seemed to consider this, "If you must know, I tried to make her a deal. It _seemed_ like a lucrative bit of business at the time-all her memory back and _fifty_ years before death. You can't give just ten to someone who's lived so long."

"But?" Jay egged.

"But you tried to blast my bloody head off," Crowley went on, irritated, "Said you didn't need your memory. And then I found out that it's impossible for you to die, so there went that deal. Too bad. That soul of yours would have been worth a hundred others, even without the Grail attached."

Jay felt these last words settle heavily on her heart.

"Didn't think I knew?" he sneered, "Thought your secret was safe from the legions of Hell?" He tutted, "I find it hard to believe you remained ignorant for so long. And you've got most of Heaven and Hell fooled as well. Although, with that angel wiping your memories every few years, it would be hard to keep track. And there's no need to worry, darling, I am a businessman, after all. It'll be a high price for anyone to pay in order to find out what baggage you're carrying."

"But that's no guarantee that you won't sell it," said Jay. She could feel the blood draining from her face. "And you can't have been the only demon to offer me a deal."

Crowley had the chance to look even more smug. "Can't I? I am the King of the Crossroads, after all. I've had you on the off-limits list since we met. You keep trying to murder me, dear. Oh and, always around Christmas. Funny, isn't it?"

"Time's up," said Sam, even though it wasn't.

"Already?" said Crowley innocently. "I hope we don't meet again boys. I've given you the best bloody opportunity to off the devil so be dears and DON'T BLOODY MISS."

Dean took Jay by the arm and led her backwards from the room. Sam had the Colt, now loaded, aimed at Crowley. The demon glared after them, spurring their steps out the door-except for Jay's.

"Wait, I want to know-Dean, _let go of me_-Crowley, what's the bracelet for?" And she jangled that unobtrusive band of bronze at him, the one that Dean had stolen and given to Castiel in order to track her down.

"That deal sounds quite appealing now, doesn't it?" Crowley called after them. Jay struggled harder but both Dean and Charlie were pushing her out the door.

"Where's it from?" She yelled. Sam slammed the door shut on her last word.

"Me, of course," Crowley said to the empty mansion. "Had to keep track of you somehow."

* * *

><p>Castiel was waiting for them at the motel.<p>

"If you tell me I shouldn't have gone, I'll punch you in the face." Jay snapped when she walked in.

"I see all of you are unharmed," Cas noted, "And you have the Colt."

"Now all we have to do is find Lucifer," said Dean, "Lucky day. Crowley gave us the Colt, free of charge, but he failed to tell us where Lucifer would be."

"Among other things," Jay added icily.

Cas gave her a concerned look. "You're upset."

"Crowley knows about her, Cas," said Sam. "It seems like he's known for a long time."

Cas's eyes widened in alarm. "How?"

"Apparently we've met before," said Jay. She paced around the room, hands entangled in her hair. "Augh! First Alex, now this! How is this happening?"

"Your memory is the least of our worries," said Cas, "If Lucifer finds out about the Grail, he won't stop hounding you until the Grail is his."

"Who cares? He can have it, so long as I'm not carrying around anymore."

Castiel suddenly lashed out and gripped her by the arm, twisting her around to face him. He spoke in a low, dangerous tone, "If you do so wish to be free of it, then _I'll_ take it myself. Otherwise, do not speak those words in front of me again." He felt her anger pause, and then well up again.

"Let go," she spat, and yanked her arm away. Cas was surprised to find that his grip gave way. Another effect of the Grail, he supposed, to be able to nullify the powers of an angel. Jay kicked open the door and stormed out, Charlie following closely on her heels. The dog gave Sam and Dean an almost apologetic glance as if to say _I'll take care of this._

"What the hell was that?"

"Do not try to lecture me, Dean." said Cas, irritated. "We no longer have the luxury of entertaining selfishness and irresponsibility. Have you forgotten that our ultimate goal is to stop the Apocalypse? My intent was to put the Grail in your care for safekeeping. Do your job."

"I'll get her." said Sam quickly.

* * *

><p>The motel parking lot was covered in tracks, but only one set was made by a dog. Sam followed the paw prints out the lot and down the sidewalk until he spotted Jay and Charlie ahead of them. Sam sighed when he saw that Jay was kicking up snow violently with every step, warding off cheery Christmas shoppers. He jogged to catch up and settled at a steady pace next to her, with Charlie walking in between them.<p>

"I hate everything," Jay grumped, without looking at Sam. Charlie whined. "Oh, except you."

Sam chuckled. "Want to talk about it?"

"Of course I do, Sam. I just. . . I don't know _how_. Where do I even begin?"

"Meeting people who know you?"

"Hate, hate, _hate_." said Jay vehemently. She made a strangling motion with her hands, "Especially Crowley, that smug bastard. At least Alex didn't know what was going on either. Crowley sounded like he knew everything. It's like-it's like-when you see someone you know at a grocery store and you can't remember their name. No, that's a bad example, it's way worse. I just-urgh." Jay punched the air in front of her. She removed her bracelet and held it up for Sam to see, "I mean, look at this, Sam! Every time I see it I think 'Where did I get this?' I want to think it's important, like ooh, maybe this is the key to my past, but for all I know I bought it at a garage sale. Why do I keep it?" And with that she hurled it down the sidewalk. Charlie barked once at its departure.

"It's odd, you know," mused Sam, "That Crowley knew Charlie. That they knew each other, really."

Jay stopped walking and looked down at her mutt, who circled around her, grinning. "That doesn't make sense," said Jay, "I remember getting him as a puppy. Six weeks old, cute as can be."

"Where'd you get him?" Sam asked.

"I, um . . . I don't remember. A ranch. Somewhere dry."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "How specific. Do you remember why you decided to get him?"

"Free puppies." Jay sighed, "I remember that, there was this cardboard sign outside the driveway that said 'Free Puppies.' And I thought, what the heck, I'm lonely, I want a dog."

She thought about how hot it had been then. She'd been tired and sweaty, but those puppies were so lively, and all of them happy to see her because they were puppies and they loved everything.

Jay sighed, squeezed her eyes shut and said, "You know, Sam, I would rather be anywhere than here in this mess and-"

Sam took a step back, staring at the empty space where Jay had been standing. Charlie was hysterical, yipping, whining and circling the spot where Jay had been. He looked at Sam pleadingly.

"Jay?" Sam said uncertainly. "Where-?" He looked around, but there was no sign of her.

* * *

><p>Jay opened her eyes and saw a blue, cloudless sky.<p>

She tried to turn her head but couldn't. She didn't hear snow crunching or wind blowing-she didn't hear anything. She couldn't feel the rest of her body. But-oh, there it was. A clenching pain in her throat, vision blurring, dizziness.

_Breathe_, she thought suddenly, and then all at once all her senses came rushing back to her and she sat up straight, coughing and wheezing. "H-hello?" Jay looked around and found herself lying on the side of a dirt road next to a mailbox. She held on to it for support; the ground was spinning. After a minute or so of deep, concentrated breathing, she felt her nausea fade somewhat and pulled herself up with the mailbox.

The first thing she noticed was that she was now covered with dust and sand. It was not helping the breathing situation. The second thing she noticed was that her nose was bleeding profusely, which also did not help the breathing situation.

Jay held her bloody nose and surveyed the scene around her. Just next to the mailbox she was leaning on was a cardboard sign advertising 'FREE PUPPIES.'

"You're kidding."


	15. Chapter 15: The Effects of Time Travel

**Oh sheesh y'all, here's the next one. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy, reviews are always welcome :)**

**Chapter 15: The Effects of Time Travel**

The rancher and his wife would have quite a story for the town that day about their two most interesting visitors. The first was a girl in strange attire (she was wearing _trousers_!) who had stumbled down the long dirt path to their home nursing a bloody nose. They had sat her down at the table and the rancher's wife made the girl lean her head back so she could take a look at her nose. Their oldest daughter was ordered to retrieve some suitable clothes for the strange guest.

The girl had asked, of all things, what year it was.

"It's 1858, darling," the wife had replied kindly. She suspected the girl was drunk. "And you're in Australia."

"Wow," said the girl, "I di'n realize I'd been to Australia."

The rancher and his wife exchanged bemused looks.

"How did this even happen? Did I leave Charlie in the future? I did, dammit." and here the rancher's wife jumped and let out a small noise of indignation.

"Language!" she gasped.

"Oh. Oh gosh, excuse me. I apologize, ma'am. . . I . . ." the girl's last sentence trailed off.

"Oh my, she's gone to sleep." The wife sighed. "Do put her in bed, the poor thing."

The rancher obliged, and instructed his daughter to take care of their guest, and to wait to give her new clothes until after she woke up. The rancher and his wife were both in the kitchen, discussing the stranger, when they saw striding down the road to their home another stranger.

"Looks like a lady from town. Must be here for the dogs," the rancher decided aloud, "I'll go see to her." He was pulling open the door when they heard from upstairs a screech of horror, and dashed to see what it was.

"She's disappeared!" cried their oldest daughter. "She just disappeared in her sleep!"

The rancher's wife calmed their daughter while the rancher went to attend to their new stranger.

She was dressed in the usual fashion, but had the same face of the girl who had just vanished from his daughter's bedroom.

The new stranger smiled, "Hello, sir. I was just passing through and-well, I was wondering if I might have a look at the puppies?"

The rancher had the heebie jeebies, but couldn't bring himself to shut the door on her. After all, the first stranger hadn't done them any harm, despite giving them all a scare.

"'Course," he said, and hesitantly led her to the barn where the litter of puppies would greet her.

* * *

><p>Inside, Charlie was whining loudly, which was unusual for him. Undoubtedly he smelled the dog food Dean had brought. Dean carefully balanced his groceries on his forearm and reached for the doorknob. One false move and his tower of goods would go crashing to the ground, but this circus act was better, he thought, than making three trips from the Impala to the motel room. The knob turned easily, and the door opened just a crack. Dean redistributed the weight of groceries to both arms once more and shouldered the door open.<p>

All of the food-pie included- went tumbling from his arms when he saw Jay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Charlie was pacing around her, sniffing, nudging, trying to get her up. When the dog saw Dean he raced frantically back and forth between the two. Dean did not need any more encouragement.

"Jay!" He rolled her on her back and checked her pulse. Well, she was alive, that was a good start. He lifted her onto the bed stuffing several pillows beneath her head. "Hey! Hey, wake up! Oh man, where have you been?"

He was surprised when she answered softly, "Australia." She opened one eye. "Where's Sam?"

"Library," said Dean, kneeling next to the bed. "Jay, you've been gone for a week! What the hell happened?"

"You know," said Jay, "time travel is a strange thing."

Dean stared at her. "Time travel."

Jay sighed, "I'm so tired. But I don't want to go to sleep. How did you ever manage it?"

"What? What do you mean? Hey! Don't you go comatose on me, kid. Talk to me." He took her hands away from her face. "Jay?"

"I know about Hell," she said. "Nobody deserves this, but someone's gotta do it, right? But out of everybody in the whole world, it had to be you, didn't it? I know what that's like. Why me? Why not some other sorry sucker on the side of the road? That's how we're the same. Time travel is a strange thing." She tapped the tip of his nose with one finger. "Boink."

Dean was silent for a while. "You know about Hell?" he ventured carefully.

"I know about Hell," she repeated. "I know about clawing, carving, ripping, beating, burning. About being utterly hopeless. Lonely. Empty." She touched the side of his face with her fingers, ever so gently, but he still winced away.

"How?"

"Silly question, Dean." Jay had not blinked or shifted her gaze from his face since she'd opened her eyes, and it was unnerving. "I saw your meeting with Famine, too."

Dean dropped his gaze as he recalled the moment when the Horseman pronounced him dead inside. Hopeless and lonely and empty. He remembered standing by the Impala, trying not to cry even when it was obvious he was broken, and asking for help. Asking nobody in particular, and expecting no reply.

"I'm going to keep taking your nightmares," Jay said sleepily, tracing lines on the side of his face. "Amongst other things, I guess. We'll see."

"Excuse me?"

"You know. Nightmares. Bad stuff. Horrifying adventures in dreamland. They make you wake up in the middle of the night, lose sleep."

"I know what _nightmares_ are, moron. I meant, what do you mean you've been taking them?"

"You're so dumb," Jay chuckled and pinched his cheek. "I've been taking your nightmares about Hell. Not that I know about it, though. It's weird."

Dean gave a small smile that quickly faded. "You're not making any sense, kid."

"I will never this much sense again. You know, I have led armies and won battles and time traveled, so by God I can fix this." She smiled. "Don't you worry, Dean Winchester. I'm here to watch out for you."

And with that, Jay rolled over and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>Sam was relieved to see Jay sleeping peacefully on the bed when he returned. "God, she sleeps like the dead. When did she get back?"<p>

"She was just lying there when I came in," said Dean. "I called Cas, he said time travel takes a lot of mojo. I guess she'll be out for a while."

"Well, has she woken up at all? Talked."

"No," Dean lied.

"How did she even _get_ here? Wait, don't answer that-she's the Holy Grail, she can do whatever she wants."

Dean snorted. "Yeah. Because what she wants is to be hanging around with us in crappy motel rooms, hunting monsters. That's living large."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Man, you know what I mean. Object of great power and infinite wisdom, all that. Cas says she brought that Marcus kid back to life, and now time travel? Has Cas figured out a way to, you know . . .?"

Dean shrugged. "Can't say. If he did, you'd think he'd tell her right away. He's pretty anxious to get at it."

"What do you think would happen?" asked Sam, gesturing at Jay. "Three hundred years old, according to Crowley. Maybe she'd just. . . I don't know, shrivel up?"

Dean gave him a look. "Dude!" Charlie growled with the same amount of disapproval.

"What? I'm just saying, okay? It has to happen sometime, right? I mean, Balthazar can't run forever. I'm surprised Cas hasn't gotten him by now."

"He's probably busy," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, well," Sam shrugged, "It's nice, having the Holy Grail around."

"It's a pain in the ass. And her little dog, too." Dean said, a little too loudly. Charlie glared at him.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You okay, dude?"

"Oh, peachy," Dean grunted. He saw the look Sam was giving him and said, "I'm fine, Dude. I'm just ready to get the hell outta dodge and see Bobby."

* * *

><p>"Jay. Pssst. Jay."<p>

Jay opened her eyes to see Charlie standing over her.

"Charlie?" she mumbled.

"Yeah," said Charlie, wagging his tail at the mention of his name. "I just wanted to say I'm really glad you're back. I was worried."

Jay rubbed her eyes. "Why do you sound like Hugh Jackman?"

Charlie rolled his eyes, "This is a dream, Jay."

"I like it," said Jay, and patted him on the head. He seemed pleased.

* * *

><p>Sam was sitting next to the couch reading the newspaper when Jay woke suddenly and said "Charlie?" Charlie immediately jumped up from his spot on the floor and started licking her face.<p>

Sam pushed Charlie out of the way and stopped Jay from sitting up. "Whoa, whoa. You okay?"

"I was talking to Charlie," she mumbled, and allowed herself to be lowered back into the pillows. "What happened? Where are we? How long have I been out?"

Sam laughed, "Slow down a minute. Just relax, alright?"

Jay took a deep breath and smelled pine needles, wood shavings and books.

"First things first," Sam began, "Do you feel okay?"

Jay stared at the ceiling. "I don't know," she admitted, "My head hurts."

"It's probably because you haven't eaten in a while." said Sam. "You were missing for a week and you've been out for a few days now. We got you to drink a little water, but other than that. . ." he shook his head and handed her a glass of water. "Drink it slow," he advised.

Jay, feeling parched, ignored him and tried to down the whole thing in a few mighty swallows. She ended up choking. Sam took the water from her and let her cough it out. When she was done spluttering she looked at him, slightly ashamed.

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Are you ready to drink it slowly now?" Jay nodded, accepted the glass once more and then sipped at the water carefully.

"So," she said after a few sips, "how about some food?"

"Hey, Bobby!" Sam called into the kitchen.

"What?" A familiar voice, but Jay had never heard it in such clear quality. She looked up from her water and almost choked again when she saw Bobby, who she'd been eager to meet since speaking to on the phone, roll into the room in a wheelchair. Jay stared. She had imagined a hardy, fat, gruff, old man in a baseball hat and a plaid shirt; Bobby fit this image to a T. In fact, the only difference between her mental version of him and the real version of him was that in her mind he had been clean-shaven and standing upright. Jay wondered if this accuracy of imagination was a side effect of the Grail.

"Cool," she whispered to herself.

"How about some food?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, yeah, what does this look like, a restaurant?" Bobby grumbled. "I'm on wheels, boy, you go and get something out of the fridge."

Sam rolled his eyes and stood from his chair to get Jay some food.

"Hi, Bobby," said Jay.

Bobby gave her a nod and they shook hands. "Jay. Nice to finally meet you in person."

"And you," said Jay, smiling. "What's crackin?"

"You know. . . hunting the devil, that sort of business."

"Okay, I found some stuff," Sam announced, reentering the room, "I'm guessing it's chili."

"Where's Dean?" Jay asked, carefully taking the chili from Sam. She took a bite and gauged the tension between Sam and Bobby's looks.

"He's . . .out," said Sam stiffly.

"Really smart, going _out_ on your own during the Apocalypse." Jay pointed out.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you won't say it. He's throwing a damn tantrum because they got into a fight."

Jay swallowed her bite of chili a little too quickly. "A fight?" she asked. "Really?"

"You kiddin' me? You've never seen them go at it?"

Jay shrugged. "Not really." her expression darkened, "Usually Dean's too busy being an ass to me."

Bobby turned to Sam in surprise. "Well, you boys have really been behaving yourselves around her, haven't you?"

"Look, don't even worry about it," said Sam.

"Oh, you should worry about it." Bobby advised, cutting Sam off, "It was about you."

Jay's eyebrows shot up. "It was about me? What about me?"

Sam gave Bobby a reproachful look. "It's just-Cas found Balthazar, I guess. And he-Cas-said, about the Grail . . ."

"Yes?" asked Jay, leaning forward.

"He said it was possible to separate it but. . . that . . . he wouldn't."

Jay blinked once, slowly. "What."

Sam held the bridge of his nose. "And Dean said if that was the case we should leave you on your own, and I. . .disagreed. So did Cas. And then I tried to reason with him-and I _did_ point out that it was partially your decision-but he was just being. . . Dean. Stubborn. Wouldn't listen to anything."

"Sorry, I thought you said he _wouldn't_." said Jay, "As in, would not. As in, he has the ability to do so but is choosing not to." Sam gave her an apologetic look and said nothing. "But he said he needed it! This doesn't make any sense!"

Charlie jumped up suddenly and stared at the door. He looked at Jay and barked once, joylessly, simply delivering news.

"Jay, wait-"

"Is that him?" Jay put her chili on the coffee table. "Let ME talk to him, we'll what he won't do, that bastard-"

"You need rest!" Sam gasped, trying to keep her on the couch. He didn't want to imagine the showdown that was threatening to happen in Bobby's scrapyard.

"You said it yourself, I've been out for days! I've had plenty of rest! Sam-no, I'm just going to _kill_ _him-_-"

* * *

><p>"Jay is awake, I gather," said Cas, appearing next to Dean in Bobby's scrapyard.<p>

Dean shrugged. "She was unconscious when I left."

Castiel shook his head. "No. She's awake now."

"You're sure there's no way to do it without-"

Castiel shook his head. "Balthazar was very clear. At this point, it would be impossible to remove the Grail and leave Jay's soul intact." He turned his attention away from the house, "About your opinion, earlier, concerning her; I realize you feel guilt, but this is not your doing."

"Our _nightmares_, Cas? Really?" Dean took a drink from his half empty beer bottle. "I mean, I felt bad when she woke up to one of us screaming. This has gone way too far."

"I would disagree; it hasn't gone far enough. She's merged with the Grail whether or not she chooses to be. She is fulfilling her purpose as such. Being apart from you and Sam would do her no good." said Cas. "She would still have the nightmares."

"How can you know?"

Castiel gave him a patronizing look. "I am an angel of the Lord, Dean."

Dean ignored this piece of wisdom. "Worth a shot," he muttered, "She's not working with us any more. Nobody should have my dreams but me."

"I wonder," said Cas, "Do you say this out of concern for Jay, or of concern for you personal space?"

"Both," said Dean gruffly. "Do you know what it's like, having someone tell you about your worst memories? Of course you don't, you're the one telling."

"I assume she doesn't remember that particular conversation," said Cas, "She did just come out of a time warp. It's an exhausting experience, even for an angel. Although, Dean, I suspect if you want Sam to agree with you, you'll have to stop acting like a child and tell him the real reason you want her away from the two of you."

"She'll probably want to stay on her own, anyway," said Dean.

"CAS!" Jay's thundered from the house, interrupting them. "SAM WINCHESTER LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANT! CASTIEL! I WILL FRY AND EAT YOUR WINGS LIKE CHICKEN, DAMMIT!"

"Perhaps," said Cas.

* * *

><p>The angel got his chance to explain when Jay demanded an explanation, and then he went on, in a calm, dry tone, to tell Jay what Balthazar had said about leaving her as an empty husk should they try to extract the Grail.<p>

Jay was silent for quite a while after Cas finished. She sat on the couch with her hands folded in her lap and stared at the floor, deep in thought.

"I think it's better you stick with us," Sam said quietly. Jay didn't lift her head. "The thing is, we _need_ you. We've got the Colt, sure, but if something goes wrong. . . well, you've saved our asses before."

"Keep in mind that we got along fine before we met you," said Dean, then added. "Not that I don't appreciate it. The thing is, though, if you're the Holy Grail and we're Michael and Lucifer's vessels, it wasn't a hot idea to keep us all in one basket in the first place."

"Guys," said Jay with a certain finality. "I want my memory back."

There was a silence that Dean finally interrupted when he spluttered "Jay. Jay. Have you been listening-at all-to _anything _that we've been saying? You are on a completely different topic."

"I've been listening. Thinking." said Jay, "And the thing is, guys, I'm at a huge disadvantage here. One of the _good things _of being old is experience and I can't remember mine. What's the point of it? I need all that to make decisions, you know. All three hundred years of it, or whatever it is."

Bobby grunted, "Well this is way over my head. Play nice. I'll look out for Lucifer."

Jay looked up at Cas. "Can you do it?"

Castiel paused before answering. "I may need help."


	16. Chapter 16

**Okay, before we go into this, I need to announce that I do not know French, and I am so, so very sorry if I butchered it (and I probably did). Google Translate was my only resource. Also, I did a teensy bit of research, but not much. Basically I hope I'm not offending anyone.**

**Anyways. Reviews are very much appreciated :)**

** Chapter 16: **

Jay felt like she was in a therapy session. She was sitting on the couch across from Balthazar and Castiel, twiddling her thumbs while they scrutinized her.

"Memories are easy enough to erase," said Castiel, "however, they are a bit more difficult to retrieve. Three hundred years' worth is. . . more than I've ever attempted to reconstruct."

"Three hundred years? Who told you that?" Balthazar asked quizzically.

"Crowley," said Jay. "He said it was an estimate."

"Well he's quite far off. You're one hundred and sixty at the most."

"Thanks. Good to know," Jay said sarcastically, "The chore's been cut in half. Does that change anything?"

"It _is_ helpful, but our task is still great." Cas said. "How often did you erase her memories?"

Balthazar shrugged. "I wasn't on a schedule, that would have been too noticeable- but I also couldn't let her go too long or she'd notice that she wasn't aging. Eleven years was the longest stretch, and that was because I lost her for a bit."

"So will I remember. . . not remembering?" Jay asked. Her nerves were catching up to her.

"Hard to say," said Balthazar. "I didn't hide your memories with the intent of showing them to you again."

"Wait a second," Dean interrupted.

"Yes, you blundering ape?"

Dean gritted his teeth and ignored the insult. "If you know her entire history, why not just, you know, _tell_ her about it? Avoid messing with the brain?"

"You did say you were following her closely," Castiel supplied.

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I was _lying_. You think I have _time_ to follow the every movement of a single human being? Despite the obvious importance of this matter, I will always have other things to do. I check up on her somewhat frequently, it's not as though I'm a stalker."

"Why do we need him?" Sam asked. Balthazar shot him a glare.

"He's the one that erased her memories." said Castiel, "The procedure is simpler when you have someone with experience, so to speak."

"You've erased memories, too," Dean pointed out.

"He didn't mean experience in erasing, numbskull." said Balthazar, "He meant experience with the particular head in question." He gestured at Jay. "Each mind is different. This one, well, I'm a bit of an expert in."

Balthazar gave Jay and smirk and she curtly replied, "I hate you." Charlie growled in agreement.

"Now, darling, no need to be _nasty_." Balthazar feigned distress. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Shall we do a quick scout-out?"

Jay moved her head to avoid Balthazar's outstretched hands. "A what?"

"It would be best for us to get a feel for the inner workings of your mind before- "

"Diving in and poking it with a stick?" Sam interjected.

"Indeed," said Cas, raising an eyebrow. He gave Jay a nod, and she reluctantly let Balthazar place his hands on her head like he was holding a crystal ball.

"I hate you," Jay reminded him.

"Insulting the one who's in charge of your mental health? Dear, dear. I thought you were _smart._"

"Jay," Cas instructed, "Clear your mind."

* * *

><p>Balthazar found himself in familiar, circular room covered from top to bottom with a continuous mural. As usual, he felt as though he was walking through water when he made his way over for a closer look at the painting. Much of the mural depicted roads, different drivers, Charlie, and demon attacks.<p>

"Frightful," Balthazar commented when he saw the part of the wall donated to Sam and Dean. The parts of the mural that he wasn't focused on kept shifting at the corner of his vision. "Now where's the- ah, here we are." Balthazar finally spotted a piece of the picture that didn't spin when it was out of sight. It was the Impala; it's door handle jutted out of the wall while the rest of the car remained in 2D. Balthazar gripped the handle, gently opened the door, and released what was waiting behind it.

* * *

><p>"Alright," said Balthazar, "That part was easy. I'm not sure how the rest will go."<p>

Jay groaned and blinked rapidly. _"Aie, ma tete. _Balthazar, _Je vous deteste!"_

Dean pointed in alarm. "What? What the hell was that? What did she say? Jay, are you alright?"

_"Tais-toi,_ Dean! My head just feels weird."

"She said, 'Ah, my head. Balthazar, I hate you. Shut up, Dean.'" Castiel translated.

"It's French, dude." Sam explained, laughing at the shocked look on Dean's face.

"Since when does she know French?" Dean blurted.

"Actually, it's her first language." Balthazar said matter-of-factly.

"You- you- you're not even _American?_ Come _on_!"

Jay rubbed her temples, but chuckled at Dean's amazement. "Dean, _tu es con_. Urgh. _Qu'avez-vous fait?_"

"I simply let some of your memories in," Balthazar announced. "The ones that were easy to get to, so to speak. These ones are simple, intact. They were just waiting to be let out!"

"And the others?" Castiel asked.

"Erm. . . they may be harder to get to." Balthazar admitted. "Jay might have to get those on her own."

"The hell does that mean?" Jay demanded.

"Good, she's speaking English now," Dean said.

"Well, it's a sort of self-searching process." Balthazar explained. "Traveling the labyrinth of your own mind, that sort of thing."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "That's not sketchy at all."

"Lesser women have succeeded." Castiel assured her. He even managed a smile.

"Alright," Jay lied on the couch, her hands resting on her stomach, shifting here and there until she was comfortable. "Let's do this."

* * *

><p><em>Jay watched herself fire bullets at Crowley, saw him duck for cover, disappear in a burst of fire. She saw Charlie as a puppy on a farm in Australia. Balthazar, weak from time travel, appearing a few days before her trial. A suit of armor, and a sword, made just for her. She went to a University in Greece, studied religion. Demons in Ireland. Batman comics were a strange comfort. The Eiffel Tower. The best pizza she'd ever eaten. The Loch Ness monster. Stone statues of weeping angels. The Vatican, meeting the Pope- he'd known her, called her a saint. Jacquemin, playing in the garden. Charlie with a broken paw. Voices in her head, visions of angels. Michael. Alex Steppe, young, frightened out of his wits, so ready to impress her. Zombies in Portugal. Incubi in Japan. La Pucelle! The angel had taken her straight from the flames into a world unknown to her. <em>Salaud.

Sam and Dean watched nervously as Castiel and Balthazar sat next to Jay, each with a hand hovering over her forehead. Charlie weaved around the room and whimpered.

"Sam, Dean, Bobby," said Cas, his eyes closed, a look of concentration on his face, "This will take time, and it will do you no good to watch. Occupy yourselves with something else, for the time being."

"I'll get the beer," said Bobby automatically, and rolled into the kitchen.

Sam and Dean did try their best to study up on omens, Lucifer, the Apocalypse, and anything else that might give them a hint as to his next location, but they were both antsy and could barely concentrate. Dean, for one, kept glancing up at Jay and the angels and drummed his fingers on the table until Sam said "STOP," as loud as he dared.

"You stop!" Dean said. He couldn't think of anything else.

"Quit twitching, you're making things worse," Sam hissed.

"I'm not doing anything!"

Bobby sighed loudly. "Why don't you boys run around the scrapyard or something? It'll do you good to spend some energy."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, then simultaneously put down their reading material and went for the door. Dean was already on the porch and Sam had one foot out the door when Jay gave a yelp in her sleep. Both brothers scrambled back inside, nearly tripping over one another as they did so.

"Is she okay?" Sam gasped.

Jay remained still on the couch, now with a pained expression on her face. Balthazar and Castiel began moving slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep. Sam realized Cas was going for Balthazar's throat, almost in slow-motion.

"BALTHAZAR!" He roared. The other angel leapt from his chair to escape, but not quickly enough. Cas already had the silver angel blade at Balthazar's throat. "You. _Didn't_." He growled.

"Cas, wait a minute-" Balthazar started, holding his hands in the air.

"Whoa! Everybody calm down here!" Dean yelled. "Cas! I know he's a dick, but let's not do anything hasty!"

"She's a saint!" spat Cas, ignoring Dean, "She's supposed to be at peace in heaven! Do you have any idea-"

Dean was taken aback. "First she's French, now she's a saint? What is going on here? Cas! CAS!"

Cas slowly lowered the blade, looking murderous. "Balthazar, you . . . you . . ."

"_Salaud,"_ Jay murmured. "Bastard."

Everyone looked at her, hoping she would awake, but she laid perfectly still, except for her deep, regular breathing.

"Is she okay?" Dean asked.

"She'll be fine." Castiel said, "I've no doubt of her strength, now that I know her true _identity_." He glowered at Balthazar.

"Cas," said Sam, "Tell us what's going on."

"No, no, I want to do it!" Balthazar said gleefully, "I'll give you three guesses."

Cas, however, would not indulge him. He took a moment to look at Sam, Dean, and Bobby before saying, "She is a saint. You know her as Joan of Arc."

It took the boys a moment to register what Castiel had just told them.

"Joan of Arc?" Bobby asked slowly. "_The_ Joan of Arc?"

Balthazar groaned, "Oh, the English bastardization of a beautiful name. It's _Jehanne_, if you want to say it the _right_ way. Jehanne d'Arc."

Castiel turned on him, outraged. "You have no right to speak, _brother_. What you've done- what you've done to her. . . It was bad enough that you merged the grail with a human. But this- this!"

"Joan of Arc." Sam breathed. "You can't be serious."

"But Joan of Arc was around in the 1400s," Bobby said, "You said she was only a hundred and sixty."

Balthazar waved this away. "You weren't around for it, but as you heard she did go through a time jump. She's done it before. The timeline's all a bit messy, she completely skipped over the 1600s and only went through a bit of the other centuries.."

"Let me get this straight," Bobby began, "You attached the Holy Grail to Joan of Arc? And now she's a time traveler because of it? And she's _here_? Right here? Joan of Arc is sleeping on my couch?"

Sam held his head and looked down at Jay as if he could not believe what he was seeing. "Holy _shit._ You're _kidding_. I cannot- I can_not_- "

"Okay, I realize she's famous," Dean began, but Sam interrupted him.

"Dean, in words you can understand," said Sam, "She's basically the most badass chick that ever lived. She led _armies_ when she was a _teenager._"

Dean looked uncomfortable. "What, Jay? _Our_ Jay? The snarky, cocky kid knocked out on the couch? No way, guys. Balthazar's messing with us." But he remembered what she'd said when she was half-crazy, just out of the time warp. _I have led armies and won battles. . . _

_"Ne joue pas avec moi,_" muttered Jay. "I'll kick your ass."

"What'd she say?" Dean asked frantically, "Cas, what-"

"She said 'Don't mess with me,'" Castiel translated. "And of course, you understood the English afterwards."

"If she's a saint, why does she swear so much?" Dean asked, "Riddle me that, boys."

"She's forgotten who she is," said Cas, looking distraught.

"Well, perhaps not anymore," Balthazar pointed out, "If you saw who she was, she's probably regained that memory already."

"That isn't the point!" Cas raged, "Stealing the Grail, hiding it in a human soul- why did it have to be hers?"

"Because it's _her_!" Balthazar explained. "She's strong enough for it- and of course, she had already been in communication with Heaven when I found her. Already had a holy experience, you might say."

"Erm, communication with Heaven?" Bobby inquired.

Balthazar gave a nod in his direction, "Yes, we sent her visions. You'll be interested to know that she's met and spoken with Michael."

There was a heavy silence in the room until Castiel spoke, mostly to himself, in a low, despairing tone.

"How could I not see this?" he said, "I should have been able to recognize her."

"It's not your fault," said Balthazar, not quite daring to pat Cas on the back, "I did a good job hiding her. Hiding her presence, her thoughts. An archangel would have extreme difficulties in finding her again, and they would first have to know she's _alive_."

"She's forgotten herself," Cas repeated, "Your actions have risked her removal from sainthood!"

"If it makes you feel better, she is still a virgin," Balthazar piped up. Cas shot daggers with his eyes.

"Well, since I'm the only one _not_ having a breakdown or a history geek-out," Dean began, "May I just point out that Jay is still unconscious? How long does this sort of thing take?"

Cas frowned. "It depends on the person. I assume she is sifting through her past as we speak."

* * *

><p><em>She didn't see or hear the crossbow being fired- it was lost in the chaos of battle, beneath men screaming, swords clashing, and the blood pumping in her ears. She did, however, feel its effect, a deep sear of pain in her neck.<em>

_"Jhenette!"_

_ She stood at the sound of her mother calling._

_ "Found you!" Pierre yelled._

_ "Jacquemin!" Her mother's voice sounded across the yard. "Jean! Pierre!" Her two other brothers stood from their hiding places in the garden as well, and the four of them raced to the door._

_ "Not fair," she told her brother on the way inside, "Mama was calling for lunch."_

_Charlie was growling ferociously, warning her. She could sense hellhounds, two of them, and focused on the demon in front of her. They were safe, she thought, in a circle of salt. She began the exorcism._

_She lifted her head at the sound of bells, and grinned._

_ "Jhenette, eat," her mother told her. She said a quick prayer under her breath, then continued eating her lunch. Pierre had stolen one of the strawberries in her porridge, and she fought to get one of his in equal payment._

* * *

><p>"Something's wrong," said Cas, after they had all milled around for a day. Balthazar had disappeared. "The process was complex, but with both Balthazar and I guiding her, she should have regained her memory and woken up already. We were extremely meticulous."<p>

"No offense to your buddy, Cas, but Balthazar doesn't seem like the meticulous type," Dean said.

"Even _he_ knows the importance of this," said Cas bitterly, "He wouldn't risk leaving the Grail in a comatose host."

"Is there a way to. . . I don't know, check up on her?" Sam asked nervously.

Cas frowned. "It would be unwise. Balthazar and I already toed the line, so to speak- an angel's presence may be too powerful- it could be intrusive and disrupt the process. The only reason the two of us were able to guide her was because she is special. She's received visions from heaven before."

"So, send one of us," said Sam, after a moment's hesitation. Dean and Bobby gave him amazed look. "He said an _angel's_ presence would be too powerful. We're not angels, and according to you, she's already been having our dreams. How bad could it be?"

The three men looked at Castiel, who considered this. "It does seem relatively safe," he said slowly. "But I cannot say how difficult it will be for you to navigate her mind."

"What would I be looking for anyway?" Dean asked.

Before Cas could answer, Sam interjected. "Whoa, whoa, what do you mean, _you_? There is no way Dean gets to walk around Joan of Arc's head. He even said _I _was the history nut here."

"This is not a pertinent matter- "

"Historical knowledge is not the issue here," said Dean.

"I was a psychic," said Sam, "That counts for something."

"That had nothing to do with being in people's heads!" Dean protested. "Here. Best two out of three." And he held a fist on an open palm to begin the rock-paper-scissors match.

"Dean! We are not deciding who gets to do this over a _rock-paper-scissors match_."

"I can send both of you," Cas said, impatient. "It will provide stability for you both to be wandering with one another- there have been cases in which one person thinks the mind of another has become reality. It can be a disconcerting experience."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "We both go. Cool." said Dean. Sam just nodded.

"Very well," said Cas. "It's best that you sit down."


	17. Chapter 17: A Journey Into Sound P1

**So, the reason this is called "This is a Journey Into Sound" is because at the beginning of the song "Paid In Full" there's this bit with this guy narrating and it's so trippy. . . and I just imagine that if anything like this actually happened that beginning part is what would play on the way in. Anyways. Just a little snippet of info for ya.**

**Whew. Chapter 17 and 18 turned out way differently than I'd first imagined. It's weird. **

**But I digress. Here you go :) Thanks for reading, reviews are always welcome.**

**CH 17: This is a Journey Into Sound p 1**

"Okay, tell us what we're looking for," said Sam.

"I cannot say for sure," said Castiel, "Something must be blocking her way out- a particularly strong memory, perhaps one that she is avoiding. . . it's possible she's forgotten that her mind is not reality. It must be extremely sensitive, and deep under, or I wouldn't have to send you."

"We're diving into Jay's crazy-ass memories with no direction whatsoever." Dean said grimly.

"Actually, I noted a certain amount of structure," said Cas, "There was a level of memories for each time Balthazar erased her memory. Granted, I cannot say if reviving all of them helped or hindered the structure."

"Sounds promising," Dean snarked. "Whatever, let's get to it."

They moved Jay into a sitting position on the couch and Sam and Dean sat down on either side of her. "I must warn you," Cas began, "She is in a fragile state. All care and precaution should be taken before proceeding. Don't look where you don't need to look. Find her, and get out. This could be more dangerous than many of the creatures you've faced- it has the illusion of being safe." After that, he gave no warning at all, but simply reached out and touched their foreheads.

* * *

><p>At first, Sam detected nothing. He had no sense of space, sound, or sight, and so had to rely on his weak sense of existence.<p>

Then, without warning, he was standing in a museum. He felt no disconcertion, confusion or unbalance; it was like he'd been standing there the whole time. Unlike the museum Balthazar had found himself in, this one was full of people milling around, observing paintings. Sam's feet automatically carried him towards the painting that a tour group had gathered around, while signs informed him that he was in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Sam raised his eyebrows at the painting in question. It depicted Joan of Arc at her home in France. Something like surprise tickled the back of his mind when someone took his hand- but then, he'd been expecting this. Somehow.

"Sam Winchester," said Jay, smiling politely, "It's interesting that you landed so much further along than your brother."

"Where is he?" Sam asked.

Jay chuckled, "He only went a few years back." Sam found, after she'd said it, that he already knew about this. "We'll wait for him. It's better that way."

Sam nodded. "How long?"

"Time is funny here. It has always been funny for us." said Jay, and turned to stare attentively at the painting. Dean suddenly appeared before them, elbowing his way out of the crowd of tourists. "There he is. Hello, Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you."

Dean gave her the absolute worst stink-eye Sam had ever seen. "Dean!" Sam said indignantly.

"That's not the real Jay," Dean explained roughly. "Just a copy. A memory."

Sam realized he had already known this as well. It was why he had not immediately gone about questioning her. "I know." he said.

"Actually, we're all real," Jay corrected them, taking no offense at Dean's rudeness, "Or we were, at one point. But, yes, the one you're looking for, the whole one, is at the bottom. We're just here to guide you along."

Dean rolled his eyes but didn't insult her further, "At least you're polite. Jesus, I had _three _other Jays before this, and they gave me a hell of a hard time before showing me the door."

Sam gave him a quizzical look. "Dude, where _were_ you?"

"Fighting demons with Jay, buying a motorcycle with Jay, sitting in religious studies with Jay. . ." Dean ticked them off on his fingers. "Bullshit, Cas! There is _not_ structure to this place. I must have seen at _least_ four different decades in two different centuries."

The not-Jay was not surprised. "They sent you on a short-cut," she explained, "Otherwise it would have taken you longer."

Dean grumbled, "Whatever. Just take us to the exit. Or bridge, or whatever the hell there is."

Not-Jay smiled. "I'll try to find the shortest way possible. But the doors keep moving. It might be tough."

She took Dean's hand in her free one and led the two of them around the museum like a child between two parents.

"So," said Sam, "I guess. . . the, you know, _one_ Jay that we're looking for sent all of you? That must be a good sign, right? If she's sending guides, she probably wants us to find her?"

Not-Jay shook her head, "Wishful thinking, Sam. The one you're looking for _does_ control everything in here, but only to a certain extent. She's been dormant for a long time," her face darkened, "I can't say that she wants you to find her. . . but the rest of us do."

"What? How the hell is this supposed to make sense?" Dean grumped, "If you're all _her_ then you should want the same thing."

Not-Jay gave him a cold stare, "I can see why the others didn't like you," she said. "We're all parts of her. Parts of her life, her memories. We can't connect to each other because we each got a blank slate and went with it, no strings attached. It's not the way people were meant to be. We're Jay with different perspectives. She can want different things. But she- but we all _need_ the same thing."

"What did Cas and Balthazar do?" Sam asked.

"Unlocked all the doors so the whole Jay could get through. None of us can get from one level to the other. But we were guiding her, as well as the angels." not- Jay shuddered at the memory, "Having them around is. . . unusual. . . none of us liked it."

"Not surprised," Dean said. "So. Why are we wasting time walking around this museum?" Sam knew that they weren't wasting time at all, and wanted to say so, but couldn't quite remember the reason for milling around with tourists.

"He doesn't catch on as fast," said not-Jay, looking up at Sam, "I guess you're more. . . susceptible to mental connections."

"Sorry I'm not part of the psychic fan club," Dean muttered. "Tell me what's going on."

"We're waiting for the right door. . .right?" Sam looked at not-Jay for clarification. She nodded.

"You may have failed to notice, but we've been walking around the museum for the same fifteen-second window for a few minutes now."

With this new information in mind, Sam did start noticing that they were passing some of the same people in the gallery. He watched a tour guide woman wearing a blazer make the same hand motions for a picture of a bridge over and over again.

"Are we looking for Jay? I mean, you?" Sam asked.

"I'm by that statue, of the Virgin Mary." Not-Jay said, wistfully. "I am having feelings of nostalgia, and I don't know why. At this moment I cannot recall ever being religious, ever praying, or even thinking there was some kind of higher power. During these fifteen seconds I wonder who I am, where I came, from, why I am here, why I have nothing and nobody. I am feeling enlightened and desolate. After these fifteen seconds, I will look away from the statue and forget the incident." She stared at the other Jay, who was in turn staring at the statue, and suddenly she blinked and jerked her head up a little. Her grip on the boys' hands tightened. Her voice became serious. "That's your fifteen second window, the link to the past."

"What are we waiting for?" Dean asked, and took an aggressive step forward. Jay yanked on his hand and gave him a dark, disapproving look.

"Not until I say, Dean Winchester," she said. "Stand your ground. You'll be there in a moment."

Sam sensed that the next repetition would be different; sure enough, at the moment when the fifteen seconds should have started over, when the tour guide blazer woman should have reset her hands at her sides, everything stopped. The people around them froze in a blur, half in one time and half in another.

"Alright," said Jay, "Do you see it?"

Dean put his free hand over his eyes and squinted. "I. . . I think so?"

"How can you not?" Sam blurted. The door, plain white, no frame, was floating in mid-air between the second Jay and the statue of Mary. Not-Jay rewarded him with a smile. "I have a question." Sam said, "Why did you decide to go to a museum?"

"You know the answer, Sam." said Jay.

"Not until you say it aloud," he explained. "Then I'll realize I knew it before."

"Day off?" Dean guessed.

"No," said Sam. "Research. One of the curators is a witch."

"Warlock," said Jay, "Mighty close, Sam. You'll be seeing me."

Sam thought more formal farewells were in order, but she simply said "Go" and released each of their hands, allowing them to pass the other Jay on either side and enter the door. Sam made Dean go through first, and then stepped through with a last look back at the not-Jay.

She was gone.

* * *

><p>Dean once again had the feeling of being dropped into a bottomless pit. His stomach twisted into knots, his eyes watered, and his head spun. Then, he was on his knees, gasping for air. Sam pulled him up by the arm.<p>

"Dude, you okay?"

"Never better," Dean grunted. "Where are we?"

"Liverpool," Sam answered, without thinking. "1960s."

"Nicely done," the brothers turned around, and there was Jay, wearing a blue knee-length dress and a white sunhat. Her hair was short, cropped down to just below her ears.

"Damn," said Dean. He straightened up and brushed himself off. Sam rolled his eyes. "You the guide?"

"I am indeed," she said warmly. "There's no need to hurry. We're on a two-second interval. The door here is always in the same place at the same time. It's getting through that's the hard part."

"At the church?" Dean asked. He frowned, then looked at Sam.

"He's catching on as well," said not-Jay, a bit smugly. "Yes. We're going to the cathedral."

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean. Dean, without really knowing what he was doing, offered not-Jay his arm. She hooked her hand on the inside of his elbow and looked at Sam expectantly. Sam, too, put up his arm, which she took, and they were off. Dean was forcibly reminded of the Wizard of Oz.

"How come we know what you know?" Dean asked.

"You don't know _everything_." said not-Jay, "Just things about the memories you visit. And it's a mental connection, genius. Knowing comes with the territory."

"They're all a little snarky," Dean said to Sam, over not-Jay's head. Sam chuckled.

"You should practice when you have the chance," she suggested, "You have the time and place. Think. Try to know what I know. What's the situation? What day of the week is it? Where's Charlie?"

"_We're_ askin' the questions here."

"Charlie is with you- um, the real- the other you." said Sam. "You've been avoiding hunting because he's hurt."

"Mhm," not-Jay nodded. "Dean?"

"It's Sunday morning," said Dean. "Right? Yeah, okay, and . . .you're going to the church because. . . um. 'Cause you can."

Not-Jay awarded him a small, condescending smile. "Close enough. It's my day off. I like churches. Ah, there I am." She pointed a finger without unlocking her arm from Sam's. The other Jay was standing on the steps of the church, looking out towards the street, unobtrusive, while strangers filed past her. It looked like a broken record sounded. There was a two-second snippet, resetting, replaying, resetting, replaying. . . it gave Dean the heebie jeebies.

"I don't see it. The door I mean." he said, uncomfortable. The three of them weaved around the strangers until they were standing in front of the other Jay, who was staring blankly at the cars parked across the street.

"Not yet," said not-Jay, "There has to be sound. That's what makes me remember. I'm looking at streetcars and thinking about these people. Who are they? Why are they here? What is it like for them to wake up in the morning?"

Dean thought he felt the weight on his arm lifting- he looked down, expecting not-Jay to have removed her arm, but it was still there, as before, except slightly less real. He looked at Sam, alarmed, and tried to motion that she was disappearing. Sam, however, seemed too busy listening to notice.

"And in the middle of wondering, I hear these bells, and at first they don't register. But I hear them, and they're beautiful. More beautiful than anything I can remember. It's like a sunny day in a perfect meadow. It's happiness. For a second, just for a second. . .there."

Dean's ears rang with the sound of clanging bells. He looked at the not-Jay, who had let go of both their arms, then at the other Jay, who was looking at the heavens with a look of pleasant surprise.

"Dean!" Sam shook him and pointed down. There, lying face-up on the step below where the other Jay was standing, was an open door. Light was filtering through. "Let's go."

"We have to jump in? Man, I don't-"

Sam shoved him, then stepped in after him, and they fell together into the steps of the Cathedral.

* * *

><p>This time, both Sam and Dean landed on their feet, and both had their wits about them, although it helped them very little.<p>

"Shit! Shit! Sam!" Dean yelled, covering his head. They were in a warzone-men in armor fighting with swords, shooting arrows, horses running wild. Sam pulled Dean out of the way and they huddled together, looking for a way out.

"They won't hurt you." Sam and Dean whipped around at the familiar voice. It was Jay, dressed from neck to toe with armor. "It's a memory," she explained, "Not the one you're looking for. Let's go."

"Jay?"

"No," she said, a bit irritated, "I realize you must know the others by that name, but you will refer to me as Jehanne while you're here. I suspect it won't be long. Follow me."

She was right about the battle. None of it affected them, although it was still creepy when something passed straight through them as if they were ghosts.

"We're not going for a door." Sam guessed.

"We're not," Jehanne agreed. "You're in the right _set_ of memories-her earliest- but you haven't quite gotten to the right day yet. It should be easy enough to find from here."

"You're speaking English," said Sam.

"_Oui_." she answered pointedly. "Our minds are interconnected. Both of your thoughts and ideas have a place here, granted they are generally secondary to mine. I speak English because that is how you know me. As English-speaking Jay. It's unfortunate, really."

Sam elbowed Dean and nodded at the scenery around them. Dean was taken aback. It looked as though they were surrounded by moving film strips, with scenes rushing past them, above them, under their feet.

"There's when I had my first vision," said Jehanne, pointing. "I was thirteen. There's my trial. . . we won't visit it."

"So. . ." Dean mused, "What do you think of the other Jays?"

"Hmph," Jehanne's expression darkened further (it hadn't been a sunny smile to begin with). "I have only seen pieces of some of the others, and I am disgusted. I wonder what the whole one must be like, if the rest of us are in such discord with each other. this is the work of a fallen angel! I hold for him the utmost hatred, and that is something in which I do not often indulge. I _can_ _not_ believe the others are _me_! How can we live like this, when we have all but lost our faith and we live in a world that does not understand us? In which we live an unfulfilling, bare half-life! Argh! Curse him! He has stolen everything! He's taken eternity from me!"

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"That is what I think of the 'other Jays' as you say," she finished. "And you can only guess the extent of my loathing for Balthazar, as they call him."

"Well I hate to throw myself under the bus here," said Dean, "But didn't he technically _give_ you eternity? Living forever and all that?"

"How little you understand," said Jehanne. She had lost most of her rage, sadness taking its place. "We're here."

She stopped walking and led them through one of the still pictures. As they stepped through, the scene came to life around them. Bells ringing in the background (Dean was reminded of the cathedral in Liverpool), the sun was shining, there was a soft breeze, it was peaceful. . . perfect. The brothers watched a pack of children run after each other, yelling and laughing.

"It is one of my favorites," said Jehanne. "Before I knew God had chosen me to save France, before I became a captain, before I saw war and bloodshed. It is beautiful, do you not agree?"

Sam nodded mutely as he watched what could only be a six- or seven-year-old Jay play hide and seek with her brothers.

"There is another door here." Jehanne said, "It appears when my mother calls us inside. She calls us one by one, you'll hear it: _Jhenette! Jacquemin! Pierre! Jean!_ My brother is going to find me because of it. My hiding place is spoiled, but I do not mind. . . see?"

Just after she said so, the three kids looked up at the sound of a heavy door banging open. Their mother appeared in the doorframe and scanned the yard for them.

"Jhennette!" she called. The little Jay stood from her hiding place and her brother pounced on her.

"Jacquemin! Pierre! Jean!"

"Follow them inside," Jehanne instructed. "You will find the whole one. I wish you the best."

Sam and Dean did as they were told, lining up behind the giggling children and jogging after them into the house.


	18. Chapter 18: A Journey Into Sound P2

**Honestly, I have no idea what I even wrote. I was just like "ASDFGHKTYPETYPETYPEJAKLDSFJ" and this came out. It's nothing like I originally planned, but I just sort of wrote and went with it. Here you go. Tell me if it's okay.**

**Thanks :)**

**Ch. 18 This is a Journey into Sound p 2**

Jay was sitting in between them. She looked like the Jay from their time: white t-shirt, black jeans, white sweatshirt and a dark blue jacket. She looked brighter, somehow, more real than the ones they had met, even more real than the live one they were used to seeing.

"Sam. Dean. Thought I felt you poking around." This was her greeting. Her words didn't seem to come from her mouth. Rather, they buzzed in the general atmosphere with a radio-like-quality of voice over an intercom. The Winchesters were sitting on either side of her.

"We came to find you," Sam stated.

"And so you have," said Jay. "Take a look around. It's sort of interesting to see, isn't it, what the center of the mind looks like?

"Is this a colosseum?" This was Sam's first question. To his credit, it was rather difficult to distinguish the stadium from the jungle growing up from between the stones.

"Good catch," answered Jay. "We're in the audience. In the stands."

"Where the hell are we?" This was Dean's first question.

"We're in what appears to be an overgrown colosseum, as Sam already established," answered Jay. "Try and keep up."

"Nice to see you too, sunshine," Dean grumbled. "Do you realize what we've bee through?"

Jay raised an eyebrow at him. "It's _my_ head, dumbass." She turned her attention back to the center of the stadium. It looked like a dry, desert plain that might be the setting for an old western gun fight. Sam followed her gaze and balked at the sight of what drew her attention.

"What the hell is _that_?"

Dean's attention turned center stadium as well, and he flinched backwards. There was a person lying there, or what appeared to be the remnants of person that had been beaten, whipped and burned. Its limbs stuck out at odd angles, one arm ended with claws instead of fingers, and even the other human hand had fingers too long and flat for comfort. There were only a few tufts and strands of hair left on its head. There were wings protruding from its back, what once might have been full, magnificent tools of flight, but had since shriveled and lost its feathers. It was twitching.

"Worst worst nightmare?" Dean guessed. He felt like throwing up.

"Interesting suggestion," said Jay, "You'll need to speak with it before you can leave."

Sam and Dean looked at each other with equal levels of repulsion. "Talk- talk to it?" Dean asked.

Jay nodded. "It isn't dangerous."

"Cas tells us differently," said Sam, remembering what the angel had said.

"Cas is correct, by all means," said Jay, "A dangerous place to get lost in, the mind. But you've passed the dangerous part, getting here. You're in the right place. The way to get out is with that" she nodded at the grotesque figure "so you can give it a shot or sit here forever, thinking that's the safer option, and you'll waste away on the outside." She didn't take her eyes off the thing in the center. "Go now."

Dean and Sam stood up at the same time. Looked at each other. Nodded. They were suddenly in the arena, each with an inkling on an idea that they had used the stairs. But then, the way down wasn't important.

The thing was not any better up close. It convulsed at their footsteps, and for each one they took closer they were tempted to take an infinite amount away.

"Hello?" said Sam uncertainly. He had to force the word out. He could barely look at it.

"Hello, Sam. Dean." said the thing. Its voice was surprisingly clear. It sat up, back to them, and curled into a fetal position, holding its knees against its chest. Its wings twitched. "Thought I felt you poking around. You came to find Jay, and so you have. She can't say she's overly pleased. She didn't want to be seen, or found. She was afraid of it."

This time Dean succumbed to his urge to step backwards. "Wait. No. No way."

"Denial does very little good here," said Jay. "It's sort of interesting to see, isn't it, what the center of the mind looks like?" She stood up and turned to face them. It was like she was untangling herself.

"Jay?" Sam gasped, "But the other- but we just saw-" he turned to look in the stands. The other Jay, the first one they had met, was still there, and watching them intently.

"That's the one the Grail created," Jay sniffed, "Although, I did allow it to. She's the one you were supposed take back, right away. That's what we made her for. She'll be easy to resurface with. No problems on the way. Why did she send you down here? Jay can't say for sure. Maybe the Grail make her like that on purpose."

"No, no, no." repeated Dean, holding his head. "We're just looking for the _one_ Jay. _Our_ Jay. Which one of you is it?"

"She's flattered, Dean," Jay snorted, "_Our_ Jay. That's not how it works. People can belong to one another, I've seen it and it's beautiful. But Jay is not _yours_ the way you make it sound. Look at you two. You are each others'. That's not her way. She is her own. She is tied to no one. It is impossible."

Sam and Dean were less frightened in a we're-in-mortal-danger but had become far more frightened in a we-don't-understand-anything-and-it's-scaring-us way.

The voice which they had heard from the first, plain-looking Jay spoke again in the radio-esque intercom way.

"Bull." she said, "Impossible is nothing."

"Shut your face," Jay snapped at herself. "Take her back. Jay is staying."

"Why? What are you going to do here?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"Jay has it on good authority that heaven is made up of one's best memories," she said, "She has them here. Why _not_ stay?"

"Real heaven is way better?" Dean suggested.

The two Jay's looked at each other.

"Jay assumed they knew," said the disfigured one.

"I didn't realize they didn't know," the other agreed. "Sam and Dean, weren't you listening to Castiel?"

"Yes, I realize the Grail lets you live forever," said Sam.

"_Makes_," said the disfigured Jay, "Not _lets_."

"But Cas said there was a way to separate you," he continued.

"Not without maiming her soul," Dean added. "If they take her and the Grail apart she'll be. . . what did he say. . ."

"'Empty husk,'" said the disfigured Jay.

"Live forever or die and never be at peace," Sam realized allowed.

"I think they've got it," said the plain Jay. "Live and stay young forever seems like a better option, doesn't it? Not to this one. She just wants to get old and kick the bucket."

"You know nothing," the disfigured Jay sniffed. "You may have seen the memories, but you didn't live them. That was Jay. You're just a fresh copy."

"But we can help them!" plain Jay insisted. "We told Dean we'd take care of him!"

"I was in here! _YOU_ said that!" she raged, "She doesn't _need_ to help! She can stay here and be happy! She can be with family as Jhenette instead of living a half-life in which her only comfort is having mortal _pets_!"

"You _love_ Charlie," said Dean. He felt the need to speak on the mutt's behalf.

Another silence ensued between the two Jays.

Finally, the disfigured Jay said, "Jay was not talking about the dog." And then the Jays gave them a moment to let that sink in.

"But _we're_ supposed to be taking care of _you_," said Sam.

"Yeah, as Castiel appointed you to." said the disfigured Jay, "But I'm two hundred and eleven years old and the Holy Grail is a part of me. How were you ever going to take care of me?"

"Balthazar said you couldn't be more than one-sixty," Sam noted. He didn't have any other answer.

"Balthazar!" Jay stomped one blackened foot, and the colosseum shook. "What does _he_ know!"

Dean looked at Sam, still partially in shock. "She thinks of us as pets." Sam winced.

"Yes, she thinks of _all_ of you as pets," said the plain Jay in her radio voice, "Including the English teacher you met, and his wife, her friend, and even the boy she saved. Apathy protects from heartache, right, _Jay? _Is it working better this way?"

"Shut up," said the disfigured Jay. She fell to the ground again, crinkling down onto her knees. "I hate you."

"Alright, that's enough. Chill out, Gollum." said Dean. Sam punched him in the shoulder and looked at him like he was insane. Jay, however, looked up in surprise and then burst out laughing. It was both of them, at the same time, and it sounded eerily like a recording playing over itself.

"I retract my earlier statement," said the plain Jay while the disfigured Jay was still giggling. "We should go with thembecause they can help us. Not the reverse."

"I'm doubtful." she said.

"Doubt is normal." This came from another voice entirely. "Trust comes with time."

"Oh, it's you," said Jay, slightly irritated. She appeared to be talking to herself, for another one of her had appeared in the stands next to the original Jay. This one had paper-white skin, shocking white hair, and white armor akin to the one that Jehanne had been wearing. Her face was Jay's, except too perfect. It was like someone had tried to model a robot after her.

"This is so confusing," said Dean.

"Not really," said Sam.

"I haven't seen you in a while," said Jay. "You look more and more like me every time. By the way, Dean, that's the Holy Grail."

"You're shitting me."

The Grail Jay frowned.

"He's sorry," said Sam, shoving his brother.

"Uh. . . yeah. I am." Dean admitted sheepishly.

"No matter," she sighed, "I've come to speak with this one. Surely you plan on letting them take you back to consciousness?"

Jay cowered. "It hurts more up there," she whimpered.

"Well perhaps when you leave I'll have room to grow things in the arena," scoffed the Grail. "Keeping this desert does you no good."

"I let you have the stands," Jay grumped, nodding at the foliage growing in the audience. "The arena is mine."

The Grail seemed unperturbed. "Very well. I'll keep it in this dry, lonely state if you so choose."

"It's not. . ." Jay started, then trailed off when the Grail gave her a pointed look.

"'Denial does very little good here.' Your words, I believe."

"Fine." said Jay. "Don't look so smug."

"If I do appear so, it's only because this is an accurate reflection of how you would look in my position."

Dean raised his hand.

"We're not in school," Jay snapped. The Grail, however, was far more accepting of this gesture.

"Yes, Dean Winchester." she said, calling on him.

"Um, what the heck is going on?"

Jay and the Grail looked at each other.

"He can be slow," said Jay. "It's not his fault."

"Hey!" Dean whined.

"I think he's sweet." said the Grail. "Sam Winchester, too. They'd make nice brothers."

"But they're going to die," said Jay, "What then?"

"Then you will relish the memory of them and remember the era that you saved from the Apocalypse," said the Grail, matter of factly, "This is your flaw, Jehanne d'Arc, Jhenette, Jay, _ma cherie_. You have lived longer than was planned for you, and now you are barely more than indifferent to life. Just because it is not everlasting does not mean it deserves to be forgotten."

"Thanks for the sermon," Jay muttered.

The Grail raised an eyebrow. "And look. You treat a most powerful, holy artifact with sarcasm. Spoiled, lonely, little child, aren't you?"

"I am not _spoiled!_" Jay cried, offended, "I was ready to die and be reunited with my family but that has been _taken_ from me! I cannot see the people around me without knowing that they will waste away before my eyes. I can see their day of dying, each one. Oh, it must be _peaceful_ and _grand_ to watch life from heaven, but I am watching from the ground! I have walked the earth and I am ready to be done with it! Oh why did Balthazar give you to _me_?"

"For precisely that reason," said the Grail, softly. "You saved all of France as a mere adolescent, Jhenette."

"Yes, at the command of God I did. I would rather have been at home." said Jay sulkily, "And He rewarded me with a fallen angel."

"It isn't better to stay here," said the Grail. It gripped one of her arms and lifted her up. The Grail was taller. "Look at these brothers, hm?" The Grail spun her to face Sam and Dean, who were watching in silence. "If there ever was a chance to find a way to separate us safely, who better to help? Who better to renew your faith in humanity?"

"You're trusting them to represent all of humanity?" Jay asked.

"Watch it, kid," said Dean. Jay grinned.

"She's getting better," Sam whispered into his ear. It was true- she was slightly less difficult to look at now. She was looking more and more like the plain Jay they had seen earlier, although older. Her wings did not appear to be healing, though.

"He thinks whispering works for secrecy in the mind," said the Grail, "I thought he was the smart one." Jay chuckled. "Oh, I've made a joke. You're beginning to rub off on me."

"So," said Sam awkwardly, "Are we allowed to leave now?"

"I, um. . . don't know the way," Jay admitted. She looked to the Grail for help.

"So you agree to return to reality?" the Grail asked. "For the sake of humanity? Or for the chance to help yourself?"

"More the latter," she answered.

"At least you're honest," sniffed the Grail, "I suppose we cannot help your selfishness. Very well. I shall show you the way up and out, so to speak." The Grail looked at Sam and Dean. "Oh, I'd almost forgotten. As long as you're here, I'll be taking those dreams from you." She touched each of them on the forehead in a way reminiscent of Castiel.

"I don't feel different," said Sam.

"You wouldn't." said the Grail. "And I must ask each of you- will you want to remember this?"

"Can they?" Jay asked, "I thought we would wake up and forget."

"That's generally the process, yes," said the Grail. "But we could change that."

"Will I still be. . ." Jay looked at the desert arena, "like this, when I wake up?"

"I suspect this encounter will help you," said the Grail, "But yes, if you must know. You will still wake up and wonder if it was better you hadn't. This is not an instantaneous change."

Jay sighed heavily. "I don't want to remember this," she decided.

"_I_ do." said Dean, indignant.

"Tough luck, cupcake," said Jay, "I said no."

"Time to go?" Sam hinted.

"Of course," said the Grail. "Out you go, then."

Jay woke up first. Cas started towards her with a look of extreme concern, but she held him off with one hand stretched out in the universal signal for "Hold the fuck up." Sam awoke next. His eyes opened slowly, and when he realized where he was he took a huge breath a looked at Jay. Dean, finally, woke up last. They all looked at each other, and although none of them could quite remember what had happened, each had it was an experience of great importance.

"So," said Dean, his mouth a thin line, his voice serious, "Balthazar tells us you're a virgin."

* * *

><p><strong>I just imagine that's something Dean would say after a mind-blowing experience. And Balthazar did say Jay was a virgin, like, two or three chapters ago. She would laugh about it.<strong>


	19. Chapter 19: Trouble

**Good gravy I have been out for a long time. Sorry. Anyways, let's get back to business.**

**Jay just went through a crazy mind warp and woke up and remembered everything. Sam and Dean were there to witness in. They were in her head (crayzay). **

**Thanks for reading, and as always reviews are always welcome :)**

**Chapter 19**

"We go through a game-changing mind trip and all you have to say is 'you're a virgin.' Man, I cannot _believe_ you." said Sam. Jay just laughed in the background.

"She knows it's funny," said Dean.

"I'm pleased that you're awake," Cas sighed with relief. He even managed a small smile. "Although, I am a bit surprised at how. . . lighthearted you are, considering the events I witnessed."

"I have so many questions," said Sam.

"Save 'em, kiddo," Jay groaned, "I'm exhausted."

"You've been unconscious this whole time!" Dean protested.

"Man, I don't know what you guys did, but you got the job done. I've got my memories back and I'm drained. Time for _sommeil_,okay?"

"Sleep," Cas supplied helpfully, at the look on their faces.

"Before you drop off," said Bobby, "You really are Joan of Arc?"

"Jehanne d'Arc. That's my name, don't wear it out," she yawned.

"But you said you're twenty-two. She was burned at the stake at nineteen."

"So it took a couple years for the Holy Grail to kick in and stop me from aging. Work with me, Singer."

Bobby might have had something else to say, but was too late. Jay had already dropped off to sleep, and this time with nobody else on her mind.

* * *

><p><em>"You're back already," said the Grail. "You were exhausted, understandably."<em>

_ "This is a dream?" Jay asked._

_ "Of sorts," said the Grail, "This won't tire you out as much as the last, I assure you. It was good that we met so deep in the mind. Now I can communicate at will."_

_ "At will," Jay echoed. A small, foreboding feeling tugged at her heart._

_ "Don't look so worried, my dear," said the Grail, sounding a tad hurt. "I shan't bother you so much. Maybe a chat in a dream, once in a while. Perhaps this way I can lend you my power a bit more easily."_

_ "How's that? What will I be able to do?"_

_ "I said perhaps. This is a new experience for me, as well. I am, in essence, pure power. Energy, in a way that cannot be explain. I'm unused to a working body and conscious thought to go with it. Words. Opinion. Feeling. It's all very strange."_

_ Jay, though hesitant to borrow the Grail's power, was still disappointed. "So, no miracles then?"_

_ The Grail sighed. "I'll work on it, my dear. It took me such a long time to figure out how to take the Winchesters' dreams from them. And even then, they had to manifest in your dreams. Good grief. To think I had to wait until they came all the way down to see me to fix them properly. And of course the results of my greatest efforts were the time jumps when your emotions were running high. I could barely control it."_

_"I. . . remember that. Sort of," Jay frowned._

_ "Don't worry yourself." The Grail smiled warmly, "Sleep. You deserve it."_

* * *

><p>Jay sat up slowly. She didn't feel quite right. It was too calm, too peaceful. She swung her legs off the couch and stood up. A man in a crisp black suit stood in front of her. He was tall, clean, pale, with dark, slicked back hair. In one hand he swung a large silver pocket watch on a chain, and the other hand held a fedora close to his chest. She recognized him immediately, and turned back to look at the couch. Sure enough, her body was still lying there, her expression peaceful. She could have been sleeping.<p>

"Oh," he said, when she gave him a sheepish smile. "It's you." He put his pocket watch away.

"Hi Dorian," she said, "Sorry for the false alarm. I know you're busy."

He sighed, "Yes, always. A reaper's work is never done." He frowned when he looked around Bobby's living room. "You've been associating with the Winchesters, I see."

She shrugged, "They're alright."

Dorian scoffed. "Alright. Both of them have died and returned _several_ times. Their very presence causes disturbances in the natural balance. They're the bane of our existence. Besides you, I mean."

Jay raised an eyebrow, "Thanks. You're sure you still can't take me?"

Dorian gave her a skeptical look, "You've died so many times and you still can't see it. You've practically got life force wafting off your ghost. The Holy Grail's not letting you go."

"Well," she said, sitting down on the couch and sinking into her body. "It was nice talking to you, I guess. Same as always?"

"Of course," said the reaper, "You'll wake up and you won't remember any of this. Until next time, Jehanne."

* * *

><p>Castiel was disturbingly close when Jay opened her eyes. She resisted letting out a small yelp.<p>

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Personal bubble first." said Jay. Cas moved away as she sat up.

"I apologize. How do you feel?" he repeated.

"Fine," she said, "I'm fine. I remember everything now. . . it's so odd."

"I assume the Grail is helping you cope, but this type of experience can be traumatic for humans."

"Cas, you can relax. I'm going to be fine."

"I saw a reaper. I thought I felt you. . . slipping." he said suspiciously. "Nothing's wrong?"

"_Nothing's wrong_," she said. She would have been more irritated if he didn't look so concerned. "Quit asking. Where are Sam and Dean? And Bobby?"

"Bobby is doing research," Cas looked into the next room, "Sam and Dean are retrieving dinner. Dean tells me this task is of the utmost importance."

Jay chuckled. "He's not wrong. I'm starving."

Cas gazed at her with uncomfortable intensity. "I must ask what occurred in your mind when Sam and Dean were searching for you. I felt a shift in the Grail's presence."

"How's that?" she asked, avoiding eye contact.

"It's difficult to explain," he said, faltering. "But I would venture to say that it is stronger."

Jay felt a queasy feeling in her stomach. She jerked up as the door burst open. Cas simply turned his head slowly.

"Burgers!" Dean announced from the doorway. "Greasy and delicious."

Jay frowned a little. Granted, she hadn't exactly eaten well in the last few years, but newfound memories of fresh, homemade dinners were strong incentive to begin a healthier diet.

"Why the poopface?" Dean asked, "What, you're too good for fast food now, Frenchie?"

She rolled her eyes. The smell and her growling stomach were enough to convince her to postpone her new food regiment.

"I got a salad," Sam pointed out, holding up his plastic container of greens.

"'Cause you're a little bitch. But this," said Dean, waving a wrapped bacon cheeseburger in Jay's face, "_This_ is the all-American diet, baby."

Jay snatched the burger from his hand. "Such culture," she noted, and took a large bite.

"Bobby!" Sam called, "Food's here!"

"As if I couldn't tell," Bobby grumbled, rolling into the room, "The minute you two come in you start making a ruckus. Could barely hear myself think."

"Whatcha got?" Dean asked through a mouthful of cheeseburger. Jay hit his shoulder backhand.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." she said. Dean made a resentful noise at her through a mound of cheeseburger.

"Well," Bobby sighed, "I'm still trying to find out how we'll get control of the devil now that we've got the Colt. Tough luck with that so far. But, I got a call about a job not too far from here. Iowa. Demonic business, right up our alley."

"Music to my ears, Bobby," said Dean, "Honestly, I've barely been able to sit still."

"Whoa," Sam said, "shouldn't we be, you know, focusing on the finding Lucifer thing? How is that not our number one operative?"

"At this point y'all are more of a distraction than anything." Bobby grunted, "I can research on my own. Besides, you might get a little info for your troubles."

"You coming?" Dean asked Jay.

She stretched, "Honestly, I'm still exhausted. It feels like I got hit by a train. I could use a few days of sleep. I think I'll skip this one, help Bobby with some research."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, slacker."

Jay grinned. "Excuse me, I have to go sleep on a real bed now." She took the stairs sluggishly, one step at a time.

Bobby eyed Dean suspiciously after Jay was out of earshot. "Okay, before you took a mind trip you were up in arms about getting her the hell out. Now it's 'You comin?' When did you suddenly decide it was okay for her to be around you boys again?"

A puzzled look came to Dean's face. "I uh. . . I don't really know." He looked at Sam.

Sam shrugged. "Beats me. I guess we just sort of. . . agreed, right?" he gestured between them. "Jay's okay with it too. I think."

"What, now you three are telepathic?" Bobby asked. "You've barely talked since you came out of the friggin' mind meld. What the hell happened?"

Something nagged at Dean's mind. "I just don't remember Bobby." he answered, frowning. "Huh. Weird."

Bobby turned to Sam, "What'd you do, drug his beer?"

Sam put his hands up in innocence, "I didn't do anything. I swear, we all agreed on this. I just can't remember when."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well, something went on in that noggin of hers, I guess."

"These are not uncommon symptoms," Cas interrupted. "Very few humans would be able to recall any concrete images or details. It was a dangerous procedure, though the reward outweighed the risk. Be glad they are not brain-dead."

"Ease up, sunshine," said Dean. "Look, Bobby. We're all fine, see? You've got nothing to worry about."

Bobby grumbled something involving the word "idjits" as he rolled into the next room to continue his research.

* * *

><p><em>"Don't I get to have real dreams now?" Jay asked. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor across from the Grail, still an eerily perfect version of herself.<em>

_ "You were just having one," said the Grail. "You need to wake up now."_

_ "I'm tired. I'm still asleep and I can tell that I'm tired. I just died. Again."_

_ "I know you I told you to sleep," said the Grail, "But what you need is to get up and move around. Even if you did need sleep, Sam and Dean are in serious trouble."_

_ Jay jumped up. "What? How can you tell?"_

_ "I just know, Jay. Now wake up, and hurry!"_

* * *

><p>Jay sat up in bed, threw the covers off and jumped past most of the stairs on her way down. "Bobby!" she called. "BOBBY!"<p>

"It's the middle of the damn night, what are you-"

Jay took his shoulders and gave him a quick shake to wake up him. "I need the truck. Tell me where they went."

"The boys? Is something wrong?"

"Yes!"

"How-?"

"Bobby, I just _know_. Wait, what am I talking about, _truck, _we have an angel. Where's Cas?"

"He went with them," said Bobby. "Let me go, girl, I'll get you a map."

The drive to Sprintin, Iowa, should have taken them four hours. Jay made it in two and a half. She came dangerously close to running them off the road several times, and only started listening to Bobby's reasoning when he said "Dammit, Jay! We're not gonna help the boys if you kill us both in a car crash!"

"I'm immortal." She said, but slowed down a little when he gave her a deeply disapproving look.

"We're almost there." said Bobby. He filled her in on the rest of the job; a lone hunter had called for backup before daring to take on two powerful demons that were killing off the town's population one by one like serial killers. Sam and Dean had called to tell Bobby they were in town and hadn't been in touch since.

Jay parked outside of town, leaving Bobby armed to the teeth and guarded by Charlie in the passenger's side of the truck. She stayed low to the ground and tried to move as swiftly and silently as possible through the woods into town. She did not know where she was going; rather, she trusted her feet to take her in the right direction. On the outskirts of town there was a run-town building that might have been an old townhouse. Lights were flickering in the windows, but there were no signs of guards or lookouts of any kind.

Jay crept through the underbrush and then army crawled over open ground to the lit window on the first floor. There were sigils on it that she hadn't seen before; the angel-banishing type, she assumed. There was nothing through the window that she could see at first. The room appeared to be empty, and she could not find the light source until she dared to stand at full height and look down. The first floor was not being used-there was a gaping hole in the floorboards that allowed light from the basement to shine up and through the window.

"I hate basements," she muttered to herself, and went back to hunching over and creeping around the house.

Jay chose the back door, which was a mistake. For one thing, at the slightest touch it swung open and creaked horribly, alerting every being with ears to her presence. Secondly, when she knew her position had been given away she took one rushed step through the doorway and felt the floorboards snap under her feet.

When she landed on her back, the wind was knocked out of her and she dropped her knife and gun and sent them skittering across the floor. Sam and Dean were both tied to chairs and there was no sign of Castiel. One demon was a thick, blonde man in a t-shirt and jeans, and the other was a thinner, dark-skinned girl in a tank top. Both demons started at her sudden entrance. The girl made a gesture, like a flick, as if to throw her, and Jay felt a tug at her chest like a rope pulling her sideways, but it was nothing more than a small discomfort. She stood up, shook away dizziness and leapt for her gun. The demon girl, realizing her power had not worked, ran at Jay with angry, black eyes.

Sam had been working incessantly at his ropes for a long time before Jay dropped in. Dean, he knew, did not have the luxury of an army knife, having lost it when they first got caught. He could not take on both of them on his own. He didn't have the knife or a gun and had no idea what he was going to do with his free hands.

Then, a miracle, the loud squeak of a door, splitting floorboards, and a girl, no doubt a fresh victim in the demons' eyes, the perfect distraction. Sam had not planned his attack. He had refused to acknowledge a deep, yearning hunger and repressed it until he had almost forgotten it was there, and so he was slightly surprised at himself when he leapt out of his chair, tackled the blonde demon and bit into his bicep, tearing through the skin and tasting blood.

Jay dove for the gun and barely skimmed the handle with her fingers when she was pulled back and lifted up by the collar of her jacket and thrown across the room. The demon girl might not be able to send her flying with magic and mojo, but she still had brute strength and speed on her side. Jay went sliding across the floor and into the wall. She saw in double vision a most disturbing scene: Sam had escaped his bonds and appeared to be biting the blonde demon's arm with a certain viciousness she hadn't thought him capable of. He lifted his head, mouth covered in blood like a fresh-fed beast, and then much to her surprise sent the blonde demon flying into the demon girl without touching him. Jay lifted herself up slowly and steadied herself against a wooden beam. Sam was advancing on the demons now, his arm out in front of him with an open palm. Both demons were paralyzed, spread eagle on the wall, helpless. Jay took the opportunity to retrieve her knife, then knelt behind Dean and started cutting at his ropes. Sam closed his eyes, a look of deep concentration on his face, and clamped his hand into a fist. The demons shook, grunting, then openly screaming as twin plumes of black smoke poured out of their mouths, shot into the air and disappeared.

He turned around with an odd look of drunken pride and just before Dean stood up and punched him, Jay saw that his eyes had turned into deep black holes.


	20. Chapter 20: The Near Future

**After several months of break, I am on a roll again. HaHAAA!**

**So, to recap (but it's really better if you just read it), Jay got a dream-message from the Grail to go help the boys, so she went with Bobby and Charlie to help them out. Then she entered the house to rescue them. Sam drank demon blood and dispatched the demons. Then Dean knocked him flat.**

**Reviews! If you don't you're a bad person. **

**Just kiddin'. I'll like you anyways just for reading :)**

**Chapter 20: The Near Future**

Jay had known about Sam's history with demon blood, and she had seen him in a different light when they'd told her, but any wary or disgusted feelings had waned when he had proved himself far more understanding and tender than Dean. However, seeing Sam drink blood and turn monstrous was far more traumatizing that hearing about it.

She stared at him as he lie on the ground, out cold, his face bloody. She could not avert her eyes even when Dean shook her shoulders and snapped his hands at her face.

"Jay, look at me. _Jay_." Finally Dean grabbed her chin and turned her gaze forcefully away. "Pay attention, kiddo. You alright?"

"Yeah," she said absently, "Yeah I'm fine."

"Okay, we gotta go," he lifted her up by the arm and set her on her feet. She had to steady herself against one of the wooden support beams. "You drove?"

She nodded, "Bobby and Charlie are in the truck." she said. She looked back down at Sam and felt a wave of panic sweep through her. What if he woke up? What if he was a demon now? What if-

"Hey." Dean turned her face away again, and moved so he was blocking her line of sight. "Don't look at him. You have a phone?" Jay reached into her pocket and took out a cell phone which had survived the fall. "Good. I'm calling Bobby."

She had to help move him, which was an unpleasant experience to say the least. She was frightened the entire time that he would wake up at attack them both, having succumbed to some inner evil during unconsciousness. Then, when it came time to drive the truck and the Impala back to Bobby's, she was unwilling to let Dean drive alone in the car with Sam, but Bobby could not work pedals and did not want go through the hassle of being moved to the Impala. She was loath to be separated from Charlie but ended up making him ride with Dean in the Impala; then halfway back home she burst into tears at the thought of a black-eyed Sam killing her canine partner, and they had to stop on the side of the road while Bobby tried to calm her down.

* * *

><p>"Good, you're finally here," said Dean, when they arrived at Bobby's house a half hour after he did. "We have to get the panic room ready."<p>

A few hours after they strapped him down and bolted the door, Sam woke up and started screaming. Most of what he said was muffled, but Jay caught the sound up in her room. She didn't sleep that night. Eventually she made her way to the basement and found Bobby sitting outside the panic room at four in the morning, reading a magazine.

"You're up early," he noted.

"Never went to bed," she explained, and sat next to him on the floor. She winced when there was a loud clang from inside the room. "You?"

"It's my shift," he said.

"How long?"

"Since one. Dean's starts in a half hour."

"Let him sleep," she said resolutely, "I'll take the next one."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at her. "No offense, but maybe that's not such a good idea."

"Neither was riding on Saint Augustins," she countered. "That worked well for me,"

Bobby snorted, "Joan of Arc bragging to me 'bout her victories," he said, "There's something I never thought would happen."

"Really, Bobby," she said, "You and Dean need to sleep. I'm not even tired."

They both looked up at the sound of Charlie trotting down the stairs. He gave Jay an annoyed look, since she had left without waking him up.

"Look, I even have backup," she said. "I'll be okay." Bobby sighed.

"If you say so," he said, and rolled away.

Jay listened, and resisted responding to Sam's calls for help and cries of agony for a long time, until he seemed to realize she was sitting out there.

"Jay! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it but I had to. It was going to kill you and you know it. They were going to kill all of us. I had to stop them. It was the only way. I hated having you see, but I knew I had to. It's still me! It's still Sam! I didn't mean to, but it just happened and it _saved_ us, don't you understand? _Jay!_"

"You were terrifying," she said. She couldn't help herself. She didn't whisper it to herself, nor did she yell it so he could hear through the doors. She said it as though he was standing in front of her, trying to explain like a sane person would. And, as if on cue, Sam started doing just that.

"It's not like I'm a monster," he said, "You know me, you know I'm not. I only wanted to do good. How is being about to kill demons not a good thing? I wasn't hurting anybody."

"Addicted," she said.

"Yeah, as much as Dean is to scotch," said Sam wryly. Jay looked up at the panic room door in surprise. It was half-joking, half-serious. What kind of person hyped up on demon blood made jokes? "I did it too, of course. You've seen him wasted all the time, you know what I'm talking about. The only difference is, when I drink I can do something useful. I can help people."

"I'm not going to let you out." she said.

"I know you're not," he replied, "You don't have to. Bobby and Dean would just stick me back here anyways. We can just talk."

Jay wondered if he had kicked his crazy into remission. It was almost scary how sensible he seemed.

_Stop, Jay. It isn't him. If you're too proud to get Bobby, at least plug your ears. _Jay obediently stuck her fingers in her ears and let him go on talking, and tried to ignore everything he was saying.

* * *

><p>Dean's internal alarm woke him up at 7 in the morning. He blanched when he realized that the sun was up and ran downstairs to the panic room. On his way down he yelled, "Dammit, Bobby! Why didn't you wake me up? It was my turn-" then he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Jay sitting where Bobby should have been, Charlie asleep at her feet.<p>

"I told him to let you sleep," she said. "I thought I'd take a shift."

"You didn't have to," he said. "You were still-you were supposed to be recovering. . ."

"From what, shock?" she said, "Please. As if I can't handle something as simple as standing guard."

"I meant from the . . . mind thing," he finished.

"I'm fine," she grunted.

"The hell you are," he said, "When you saw him, you looked like someone shot you. And don't think Bobby didn't tell me about your little breakdown."

"_I said I'm fine!_" she snapped, whipping her head around to glare at him. "And you're one to talk, Dr. Phil."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Hey!" Bobby interrupted, roaring at them from upstairs, "You two start fightin' again and I will whip both your asses, understand? Now get up here and eat!"

"Martyrs first," Dean taunted. Jay ground her teeth together and made the house shake with each stomp up the stairs.

"Careful on my house, girl!" Bobby barked. "If you're angry at this idjit, you take it out on him and not my stuff, understand?"

"Yes, Bobby," she muttered, and sat down lightly in her chair at the kitchen table.

"I'll eat upstairs," grumped Dean. He swiped his plate of eggs off the table and stormed out.

"CHOKE!" Jay called after him.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Dean tapped Jay on the shoulder. She was lying on her back on the couch, reading an ancient French version of the Bible. She had originally been skipping through to find parts about Lucifer, but eventually ended up reading it page by page just to get a feel for French again.<p>

She tilted her head back and saw him upside down. "What do you want?"

"We're leaving on a job." he said. "Sam's still out, so you're coming instead."

"What, Cas hasn't turned up yet?"

"No, Cas called the job in. He's in Detroit, that's where we're headed."

"He can't zap us over there?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "I'd rather not have him do it."

"Long drive."

"Worth it."

Jay looked back at the Bible and began reading again. "Apologize for being a dick and we'll talk."

"I'm sorry for being a dick."

"Say it so you don't flood the room with your sarcasm."

Dean sighed. "Jay. I'm sorry. For being a dick."

She closed the Bible and sat up. "I'll tolerate it. Get the Impala ready, I'll be packed in half an hour."

* * *

><p>Detroit was too far a drive, even between the two of them. They stopped at an unassuming motel and called Cas to let him know they would arrive the next day. Dean still insisted on getting there by car instead of taking the split-second route.<p>

"Dare we share a room?" Dean asked.

Jay raised an eyebrow at him. "You really think that's a good idea?"

Dean threw up his hands. "Come on. We'll have two beds and I'll cover my eyes and everything."

"I'm not worried about you making a move, dillweed," she retorted. "There's no Bobby to break up a fight here and it's not like I can kick you out to sleep in the hallway. We need space."

"Or we could practice getting along," he offered. When she didn't immediately answer he said, "Work with me, here."

Jay, though somewhat weirded out by Dean's sudden cooperation, considered the option. Finally she shrugged. "We'll give it a whirl."

* * *

><p>"Don't you dare open that," said Jay, when Dean pulled another beer bottle out of the fridge. "You've had three already. You don't need it."<p>

"I have a high tolerance." he whined, but put it away when she gave him a motherly look. He flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Jay had been expecting more of a fight. She was intrigued that he gave in so easily.

"You know," she said, "I know I made you apologize but I wasn't expecting you to act nice the whole way. What's up?"

"My eyes have been opened. I'm changing my ways forever," he said, and grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "You're hilarious."

"I know."

"Seriously," she said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "You let Charlie come along-"

"You _made_ me let Charlie come along."

"And you even let me drive the Impala today."

"Well it is a long drive."

"Dean."

"What."

"Is this about Sam?" She asked suspiciously, "You know if I could have helped him, I would have already-"

Dean gave a short, humorless laugh. "Nothing can help Sammy."

Jay gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Dean!"

"I just. . . I. . . I don't know what to do with him any more. He told me he was off it. He lied."

"He didn't know!" she cried, "He saved us both!"

"Don't defend it, Jay." Dean said, "No matter what, it's demon blood. It's wrong. You saw him. You saw his eyes. And I just-I don't trust him to hunt anymore. Cas doesn't exactly blend in, and he's got heaven shit to do. Bobby's great, but he's in a wheelchair, maybe for the rest of his life."

Jay felt her stomach sink. "You can't possibly-"

"Why not?" he asked, "My three go-to's are out, and I can't do this stuff alone. You've been with us for months, you know what you're doing. Hell, you've been around that much longer-you probably know better than any of us."

"You're right," she said, "I do. And I am telling you, Sam is your _brother_. You can't rule him out. You're never going to find a partner that works as well with you as he does."

"Won't I?" he asked, "You've saved us like five times already. If you hadn't been there in Iowa, I would've been toast, demon blood or no. We didn't even call. You just came at the right time. It's what you do."

"The Grail told me," she said.

"Yeah, I haven't even brought up the Grail reasoning yet. And have I mentioned that you come with a hellhound-fighting dog? It's a three-in-one package for one great price."

"Dean, this isn't funny."

"Good point though, isn't it?"

"What if I decide to just up and vanish? I've done it before."

"Yeah, well. So has Sam." He rolled onto his side, back to her. "We'll talk later. Get some sleep."

Jay opened her mouth to argue more, but thought better of it when she realized how tired she was. She lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, but stayed awake long enough to hear Dean start to snore.

* * *

><p><strong>[Remember that time Dean went to the future? Guess what. It just happened. 2014.]<strong>

Dean had awoken in an abandoned wreckage of a motel room, ventured outside, escaped a horde of Croatoan victims by a hair and hotwired a car. There was no cell signal, no radio, nothing. He had figured out where he was and was on his way to Bobby's when Zachariah appeared in the passenger's seat and scared the living hell out of him.

"Dammit, I thought this had something to do with you," Dean snarled, "Where the hell am I? How did you find me?"

"That man you brushed off outside the motel? One of ours," said Zachariah calmly, flipping through a future newspaper. "We've got a pandemic, bombings from President Palin. . . you're in 2014, kiddo."

"Whoopdee do. I've seen what I needed to see, now send me back."

"Don't be so hasty, Dean." The angel chided. "You've got another, oh, three days up here. Letting you _marinate_ a little, to see the consequences of your choices. This is what happens to the world if you keep saying no to Michael. Have a little look see."

"Screw you," Dean growled.

"Oh, and one more thing before I leave you to stew," said Zachariah, "That lady friend of yours? Who is she?"

After a pause to try and hide his alarm, Dean said, "None of your business."

"Well, I only ask because she somehow managed to hitch a ride when I sent you here, and in her _sleep_. Not a lot of people can do that."

Dean stared at him for as long as he dared take his eyes off the road. "She's _here?_ In the future? What the hell?"

Zachariah put his hands up in mock innocence, "I didn't have anything to do with it. It's her own fault. I don't even know where she is at the moment. Could be in Australia for all I know. Although, that'd be unfortunate." He flapped the newspaper at Dean, who read in a glance that the Croatoan virus had finally spread there.

"Shit!" Dean hit the wheel of the car, then settled back into an angry silence when Zachariah had gone.

* * *

><p>When Jay woke up, she immediately felt something was wrong. The most obvious clue was that she was not in a motel room, but lying in a patch of dead leaves in the middle of a forest. Dean was nowhere to be found. In fact, when her headache faded and she sat up to take in more of her surroundings, she found no sign of any human intervention. Either that, or whoever had brought her out here was an expert at hiding a trail.<p>

She wandered through the woods until she found an old, rusty fence at the edge of a hill overlooking a small city. Looking down, she saw wrecked cars littering the streets, ruined buildings and zero sign of life. Except . . .

"HEY!" she yelled, upon seeing an hunched figure nearing the edge of the hill. "HEY! UP HERE! What's going-"

A head snapped up and gazed at her with a pair of deep, glazed-over eyes and a filthy face. Jay took a step back. The man growled, and she turned heel and ran, not looking back but hearing him clamber and claw his way up the hill and over the fence behind her. When she heard the crack of a tree branch and a muffled thud, she turned and saw the man had fallen-but only because two other Croatoans had overrun him.

* * *

><p><strong>So, in case you haven't figured it out, I'm using the plot from <em>The End<em> (Season 5, Episode 4). I mostly have summarized Dean's part alone because I'm assuming people have already seen it and I'm too lazy to write it out detail by detail.**


	21. Chapter 21: The Near Future P2

**What we have here is a mighty long chapter. At least, a little longer that I'm used to. **

**Quick review: Dean and Jay have just been zapped to the future by Zachariah! I have taken my cues from the episode _The End_ (Season 5 Episode 4). Go check it out. ****The Devil!Sam in _The End_ is a more suave, wordy type of Lucifer. Well, I like the snarky one better. So I changed that a bit.**

**Anyways. Thank you for reading :) And, as always, I love and appreciate any reviews.**

**Chapter 21**

They were catching up. It was something she had to come to terms with every time she glanced behind her shoulder. Four of them, raging, roaring human shells with a taste for flesh. She didn't care how far she'd run, she knew she could always go farther-that was, after all, an advantage of being the Holy Grail. But Jay had pushed herself to the limit on speed. No matter her endurance, she had shorter legs and was lacking in evil virus induced speed. At first she had internalized her screams, unwilling to waste a breath of air on a scream.

_HELP!_ _GRAIL! I NEED HELP!_

She wasn't expecting any answer, but after calling inwardly, she received a foreboding feeling that whatever power was in her had weakened in the process of a time warp. So, Jay started sacrificing precious breaths to screaming.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"

Was that a road? Jay squinted and saw through the trees a glimpse of pavement. Were her chances better or worse running on a highway? She'd be able to run without having to worry about falling over branches, but her pursuers would be without obstacle as well. Then again, whatever had the good sense to drive a car was her friend. She switched directions and made a beeline for the road.

Unholy screams. Growls. Impending footfalls. Blooding pumping in her ears. These, she suspected, were the reasons she didn't hear the car.

* * *

><p>"<em>DEAN STOP!<em>"

At Cas's warning, Dean slammed his foot on the breaks just a little too late; the girl that had rushed suddenly out of the trees would have run straight into the side of the car if she hadn't been smart enough to leap up and roll over the hood. Dean grabbed his gun, and scrambled out of the car. He had been on his way to threaten the girl; however, he changed his mind when he saw four Croats charging at them through the trees. They were just far enough to be easy targets. He dropped three of them at a second's notice and Cas, who had exited from the passenger's seat, took care of the fourth and was attending the girl they'd hit.

Dean scanned the treeline, searching for more.

"Dean," said Cas, with a note of urgency. Dean turned and saw that the girl had buried her face in the angel's chest and was sobbing. At the mention of his name, she looked up, then burst into a laugh of relief at the sight of him. She abandoned Cas's hug and ran to him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Holy _shit_, Dean," she said, grinning even as she cried, "I have never been so happy to see you. Where the hell are we? What's going on? What's up with Cas?"

"Hey," said Cas, in an offended tone.

"I'm sure being banished is an experience," said Jay, "But man, you look like a homeless stoner." Castiel shrugged.

Future Dean returned Jay's embrace with a one-armed hug and rested his chin atop her head. He had left his past self handcuffed to the ladder. He had made sure that he was not a shapeshifter, demon, or ghoul. Every test had proved that he was human, and telling the truth about being from the past. If his former self had known about Jay, then he had kept it to himself.

"What's going on?" Dean's other fighters called from the back. "You know her?"

"You sure she's not a-" started another.

"No," he interrupted.

"Dean, how-"

"Shut up, Cas," he barked. Jay frowned and took a step back.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "Cas, you're in back. Jay, you take shotgun-no, I meant the _seat_. Well, I guess you'd better have the gun too. . . Just don't say anything. We'll talk when we get back."

"Back where?" she asked. He didn't answer, but gave her a frown that told her to stop asking questions.

It was one of the longest car rides of Jay's life. Dean kept glancing over at her, as if to make sure she was real. He would also periodically exchanged glances with Cas in the rearview mirror and then avoid looking at her when she stared at him.

"Quit it," he muttered, when she'd been glaring at him for a full five minutes.

"You quit it," she said. He rolled his eyes.

"I said I'd explain later."

Jay sulked and looked at the ground. It was difficult to tell where she was when all she had was a forest and a single road for references. But then, she could find answers elsewhere. Jay pulled at the handle of the glove compartment and it dropped open, revealing a messy stack of maps. Upon realizing what she was doing, Dean tried to fight her hands away with one free hand, but she got ahold of one and stared at the text on the front.

Oklahoma, official state map. 2012-2013. She stared. She looked up at Dean, her mouth hanging open.

"It's 2014, actually." he muttered, then snatched the maps from her hands and stuffed them back in the glove compartment.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God," she said, "You locked yourself up? And then you escaped?"<p>

"What a dick, right?" Past Dean said, glaring at himself.

"What are we going to do with _two_ of you? This is so _weird_. Oh and, just to make sure, you're my Dean right?" she asked Past Dean.

"The one and only," he said.

"Ha." Jay rolled her eyes. "I woke up in the middle of the freaking woods. Tell me what happened."

"Zachariah."

"Who?"

"He's an angel," said Future Dean, "A very powerful one."

"I already hate him." Jay muttered. "I talked to Cas already. I mean future Cas. He's got nothing. He can't send us back. Furthermore, he's turned into a human stoner douchebag."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, he and you almost ran me over. Anyways, we need to talk about this Zachariah."

"Like future me said," said Dean, "Very powerful angel. Total dick."

"Why did he put us here?" she asked.

"He seemed to think it'd change my answer to Michael." he said.

"Does he know about me?" she asked quietly. An uncomfortable silence settled around them. "Dean?"

"He said you sort of hitched onto the time warp when he zapped me here," said Past Dean, "I think. . . I mean, he probably suspects something."

Jay groaned. "Dammit. If he does know we've got to find a way to drop him or he'll tell all the forces of Heaven where the Holy Grail is."

"Forget Zachariah for now," he said, "He probably thinks you're a glorified witch or something. We need to focus on getting back to the present."

"It is the present," snarked Future Dean.

"Why so difficult?" Jay snapped. "Oh wait, it's _you_."

"Where'd you go anyways?" Past Dean asked.

"To get the Colt," Future Dean answered.

"We already _have_ the Colt," said Jay, "We got it from Crowley-"

"And then you'll lose it when Sam says yes to Lucifer."

Past Dean and Jay looked up and spoke in unison. "_What?_"

"Detroit," said Future Dean, "That's where I heard it went down."

"You said he was dead!"

"I lied," Future Dean shrugged, "But hey. Now that I've got the Colt back, we're gonna hunt him anyways."

* * *

><p>Future Dean presented the Colt and his plan to a team of somewhat hesitant soldiers.<p>

"Great, we've got the Colt to kill him," a woman said, very snippy. Apparently future Dean had cheated on her. Some things never changed. "How do you expect to find him?"

"I got intel from the demon we caught last week," said Future Dean, "Big guy's entourage. He knew."

"And what, you just took his word on it?" she demanded.

"Trust me," said Future Dean, "He wasn't lying."

"Ah, yes," said Cas, "Our dear fearless leader is only too skilled in getting to the truth."

Past Dean looked up. "Excuse me? We're _torturing_ again? Nice. Very nice."

Future Dean gave him a dirty look while Cas chuckled.

"What." he said, defending himself against Future Dean's glared. "I like past you."

Jay pulled Dean back to where she was sitting, "What do you mean, _again_?"

Dean gave her a pained expression. "I forgot we didn't tell you that."

"Tell me-"

"So," Cas said loudly, interrupting, "Are you saying you want us to waltz into a hot zone guns blazing and hope to make it far enough to shoot the devil?"

"Yes," said Future Dean, not missing a beat. "You in or not?"

Cas sighed. "Of course. But uh, what about, you know, the ghosts of Apocalypse past over there? If something happens to past you, won't you just, you know, _poof_?"

"He's coming," said Future Dean, pointing at Past Dean, "Jay, it's your call."

"I'm in," she said.

"'Course you are," he muttered. "Cas, Risa, round up the folks. We're packed and leaving by midnight."

"Yes, master," Cas called on his way out the door.

* * *

><p>Jay peeked in Dean's cabin and saw him cleaning the Colt with an array of gun parts laid out on a table. She knocked on the doorframe and he frowned when he saw who it was.<p>

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Nice to see you too, sunshine," she said, and let herself in. She sat across from him and resisted touching anything. "So,"

"So what?" he asked, after she didn't say anything.

"So, I couldn't help but notice," she said, "That future me wasn't among your most trusted advisors."

Future Dean paused for a moment, then went back to loading a shotgun. He said nothing, and didn't look at her.

"Oh and Dean tells me that you shot a guy in cold blood and that torturing is your new hobby." she added.

"Times change," he said. "The man I shot was infected with the Croatoan virus. It was easier to just drop him than to break the news. Like ripping off a band-aid."

"Like ripping off a band-aid," she repeated slowly, and let her criticism sink in.

"Hey. Welcome to _my_ world."

"People came up to Dean thinking he was you," she said, "How come nobody knows me? When Cas saw me this morning I swear he thought he was seeing a ghost. Same for you."

"Dammit, Jay," Dean finally stopped for good and set his materials aside.

"What happened to me?" she asked quietly. She had wondered whether it was a good idea to ask, and in the end her curiosity got the best of her.

Dean rubbed his face and covered his mouth with one hand. His voice came out muffled but she still caught the name.

"Lucifer," he said.

"Lucifer," she repeated, and she thought she felt her heart stop. Chills went up her spine at the very mention of his name. She managed a small, nervous smile before arguing, "But I. . . I can't die."

Dean finally managed to look her in the eye and her smile faded. "Not as long as the Grail's in you," he said. "But it was right after Sammy said yes and he found you and. . . he tried to separate you and like Cas said it. . ."

"What?"

"He tore you apart, Jay."

Literally? Figuratively? It didn't matter. Cas had refused to separate her from the Grail for a reason, and although she had trusted his judgement, she'd had hope that it wasn't as serious as he'd been making it out to be.

Jay stared at the table. She spoke in a monotone."I've got to go."

She pushed her chair back and stood up and Dean stood up with her. She was halfway to the door when Dean caught her wrist and stopped her. "Wait. You can't tell him. Me."

"I wasn't going to," she said, then added, "I'm sorry I asked."

"One more thing." He pulled at her wrist again, and this time brought her into a crushing bear hug. "God, it's good to see you again."

"You didn't seem too eager when you hit me with your jeep," she joked. She wasn't able to put much humor into it.

"I didn't believe it was you," he said, "And then I remembered that. . . past me was here and I put two and two together. I didn't want you to find out."

"That's why you shushed Cas in the car," she said.

"Too smart for your own good," he said, still cradling her.

"Anyone would have figured it out eventually, dumbass," she chuckled, "It's not that tough to say, 'Hey have you seen me around?'"

Dean let her go when she pushed gently away from him. "Still coming with?"

"Of course," she said.

"Great," he sighed, "Let's go kill the devil."

* * *

><p>Jay rode with Past Dean and Cas on the way to the devil's sanctuary. Their road trip through the hot zone of Croatoans and demons was surprisingly uneventful. Outside of a large, red brick building, the pack of soldiers did a weapons check, hiding themselves behind the cars. Past Dean and Jay watched. Future Dean requested that they go unarmed; after all, he'd insisted, it wasn't their fight. Yet.<p>

Future Dean had explained his suspiciously simple plan to the small pack of soldiers and then, at the doubt on their faces, said "Trust me, guys. They'll never see us coming."

Past Dean and Jay looked at each other.

"Hey. . .me," Past Dean addressed his future self. "Can we, ah, talk to you for a sec?"

Future Dean rolled his eyes, but obliged. "What?"

"What's up is, this stinks to high heaven of an obvious trap," said Jay, "And not the kind the humane society promotes."

"And," Dean added, "You, me, we, _whatever_. . .know about it. You've got to. _They've_ got to. What are you doing?"

"Distraction," said Future Dean. "Plain and simple."

Jay and Past Dean stared at him.

"Are you-do you mean- you're sending our _friends_," Past Dean spluttered. "Man, I would _never-!_"

"I know you wouldn't," Future Dean said sadly, "You'd never give up, you'd never sacrifice your friends, you're too cocky for that. And this is what comes of it, man. Look around you."

"I can't let you do this," said Past Dean.

Future Dean answered, "I know," and then he cold-cocked himself and Past Dean was out.

"Dean!" Jay shrieked. She knelt over Past Dean to make sure no serious damage had been caused. But then, he had seen worse. She looked over her shoulder at Future Dean. "Go ahead," she said, "I'm not stopping you,"

Future Dean did not looked surprised, relieved, or angry. He looked broken. "Why?"

"Because I know your sickness, kiddo," she said, then nodded at Past Dean, "He's got the symptoms already. You've seen too much and lived too long. Death is a blessing if it means you won't have to live through this anymore, right? And what you're about to do has already happened in some other future that you can't stop. Just like you think this future is something _we_ can't stop."

"He has to say yes to Michael," he said, "That would stop it. You could make him do it, Jay."

"Leave it, McFly," said Jay, "We're going to stop the Apocalypse, and that's all you need to know."

"That's what I thought, too," said Future Dean. "And then reality kicked in." He drew the Colt and jogged down the road after his vanishing comrades.

Jay turned to face Past Dean and tried to get him to wake up.

"I've got you, Dean. Don't worry."

* * *

><p>Not long after Future Dean abandoned them, Past Dean groaned and slowly sat up. Jay steadied him with a hand on his shoulder.<p>

"You okay?" she asked, "You hit yourself pretty good,"

"Funny," grunted Dean, rubbing his head.

"Come on," she said, "We have to find future you. Something's going down." Jay stood, grabbed Dean's arm and hauled him up, then led him down the trail his future self had just taken.

Jay had a feeling of foreboding deep in the pit of her stomach. It was a tiny growth of fear and doubt, slowly but surely taking over her insides. However, it was on a level she could handle. Too deep, too animal, so she pushed it away and told herself to move on. With thunder crashing overhead, she led the way into a clearing where she saw Future Dean lying on the ground with a foot pressed to his throat. The foot belonged to a tall man dressed in white.

She balked. She stopped dead in her tracks and immediately started retreating without knowing why; she only got so far as a couple steps before Dean held her still. Jay clenched onto his arm and hid halfway behind him. She watched in horror as the white shoe pressed harder, harder. . ._crack_.

Jay let out an involuntary whimper and the man in white turned around. She wasn't trying to scare herself, but for some reason she could not stop the words and images spinning through her head like an endless disfigured slideshow

_satan morningstar murderer thief antichrist beelzebub wicked one prince of darkness king of lies angel of light lord of the flies sam winchester_

_ Lucifer_

_ He tore you apart, Jay_

The devil, whose white suit somehow fit, turned around.

"Oh," he said, with a hint of amusement, "Hello, Dean." Lucifer craned his (or Sam's?) neck as if to get a better look at the girl hiding behind Dean. "And Jay, too. Aren't you a surprise?"

Dean and Jay stared. Neither took their eyes off him. They had forgotten the comfort of one another's presence, and both saw themselves facing the devil one on one in a vast expanse of darkness. It was the burst of lightning, the roll of heavy thunder that brought them back to their senses. They cringed and shielded their eyes, and they were reminded that there was still a sky, grass beneath their feet, and that they were not alone.

"You've come a long way to see this, haven't you?"

The angel appeared behind them in their moment of distraction and Jay and Dean stumbled back.

Dean, at least, seemed to have his usually stubborn resolve in the face of such evil.

"Go ahead," he said through gritted teeth, "Kill me."

"Kill you?" he said, looking genuinely puzzled. He looked pointedly at Dean's future dead body behind them. "Don't you think that would be a little. . . redundant? And as for you, Jay. . . well. We've been through the motions."

Jay managed to hold her ground, but just barely. Was it the Grail that caused such aversion? Did she even have it? Cas had lost his powers, so perhaps in this future she was just as helpless as he was.

"What is that supposed mean?" Dean asked. Jay's first instinct was to shake her head at Lucifer behind Dean's back the way she might with Sam when she didn't want him to say anything. But that urge died almost immediately. Who did she think she was dealing with?

"_Oh_," said Lucifer, and gave a sly smile, "You don't know, of course."

"Don't know _what?_" he asked, an edge of fear in his voice.

Jay gripped Dean's arm so hard that he grimaced and gave her a look, but he didn't pull away.

"Don't." she said to him, not taking her eyes off Lucifer. "Don't push it. Don't ask."

"Well I think he has a right to know," said Lucifer, grinning. "He came all this way, didn't he?"

She knew he was enjoying it, and that, if he chose to, he could play the game for an excruciating amount of time. If he was going to find out it should have been his future self telling him, or her, not his possessed brother. But there is a difference between knowing that a quick rip is good for you and actually tearing off a band-aid.

"Jay?" Dean asked.

"Well she's dead," said Lucifer. "I killed her."

Although deeply ashamed for not telling him, Jay was still flattered by the flat-out killer rage that flashed across Dean's face as he glowered at the devil.

"I didn't _mean_ to," Lucifer sighed, "I was trying to get the Grail, had a little accident. Whoops." He let another flash of lightning interrupt him. "Goodbye, Dean, Jay. See you in a few years." He turned and started walking away, like a man on a stroll in the park.

"You better kill me now," Dean called after him. Jay heard a crack in his voice.

"Pardon?"

"You better kill me now," Dean repeated, "Because you are nothing more than the same brand of cockroach I've been squashing my whole life; an ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground supernatural piece of crap. The only difference between them and you is the size of your ego. And I swear, I will find a way to kill you. I won't stop-"

"I know you won't," Lucifer interjected quietly. "I know you won't say yes to Michael, and I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up. . . _here_."

Jay found her voice her for a surprisingly simple reason. She found his idea of fate unappealing.

"You're wrong." she said. Lucifer's attention snapped to her.

"Excuse me," he said.

"In a million other pasts, I burned at the stake," she said, "That was it. Game over. But here. . .I live for hundreds of years." she said. "In another future, Dean snaps your neck. And that's it, that's game over for you and game on for the rest of us."

After a pause he said, "A comforting thought, for you." He said it the way someone might speak to a child who has just spouted nonsense. "Consider, though, that your fate in the fire had just been postponed. After all, the history books didn't change even when Joan of Arc died six hundred years later than she was supposed to. The world did not stop rolling on its imminent path to doom."

"Consider that we're going to drop you," she said. "And we win. So we win."


	22. Chapter 22: Friends and Family

**In the last chapter, Jay and Dean completed their trip to the future (courtesy of Zachariah).**

**Chapter 22: Friends and Family**

Jay found herself standing in a familiar motel room. For a moment she was overcome by vertigo and stumbled backwards onto her bed, cradling her head. This wasn't the future. It wasn't Bobby's house. . . then she remembered.

"Jay!" Dean steadied her, "You all right?"

"Fine," she said, "Just dizzy,"

"That does tend to happen."

Jay looked up. A bald man in a suit gave her a smug smile.

"Zachariah," growled Dean.

"Yes, that's me," said the angel, still talking at Jay, "I assume our mortal friend here has told you something about me. Who might you be?"

Jay and Dean glanced at each other, and Jay opened her mouth to lie but was cut off as she breathed in to talk.

"There's no need, actually," he said, "I've figured it out. Been watching while you two had your adventure. Joan of Arc, saint of France. _And_ the Holy Grail. Nothing special! Ha ha! Ooh, it kills me to say this but right now my conversation with Dean is actually more important. He's the Michael Sword, as you may well know."

Zachariah's face became serious and even a little sad. "Listen, Dean," he said, "Think about what you saw. And I know, you think it's one of my tricks. . . it's not. That's your future. That's _the world's _future. We don't have time for games or tricks. We need you to fulfill your destiny and save billions of people. _Say yes._

Dean's face formed his faux-consideration expression. He held it for a moment, then said, "Nah."

The look on Zachariah's face was, in Jay's opinion, priceless. "Nah?" he asked, incredulous, "_Nah? _Have you _still_ not learned your lesson?"

"Oh, I learned a lesson, all right," said Dean, "Just not the one you wanted to teach."

"We'll see," Zachariah breathed, furious, "I'll teach you again, _boy_, now that I've got you. . ."

But he was speaking to an empty room. He looked around, more perplexed than he'd ever been, and suddenly realized that Dean, Michael's vessel, had slipped through his fingers _yet again_, and so had the Holy Grail. What little restraint he had left was the only thing that kept him from flattening the motel and the entire town surrounding it.

* * *

><p>"I am <em>so sick<em> of being _zapped around_!" Jay complained. She had landed on her butt on hard, wet, pavement while Dean had been transported standing. Charlie, too had been moved from his bed in the Impala to their street corner.

"I apologize," said Cas.

"Whoa man, don't _apologize. _That was the best timing I've ever seen." said Dean.

"We had an appointment," said Cas, with a self-assured smile. Jay stood up and was filled with a sudden relief when she saw that he was relatively clean and dressed in his usual trench coat and suit. At the sound of his voice, she had been expecting the 2014 stoner Cas.

"Cas," said Dean, clapping the angel on the shoulder. "Don't ever change, okay?"

"Yeah," Jay agreed, "It _is_ good to see you."

"I take it we have much to discuss?" Castiel guessed.

"You have no idea," said Dean, "But first, I gotta call Sam. Then we'll talk. We'll start with the bad news."

"And then we'll get to the worse news," Jay muttered.

* * *

><p>Gathered around Bobby's kitchen table, Jay and Dean related the tale of their trip to the future as well as their encounter with Zachariah. Surprisingly, Castiel took the news the best out of all of them.<p>

"It was only a matter of time," he sighed. "Balthazar kept the Grail so well hidden for a reason. The chances of its whereabouts getting out are exponentially higher with each person that knows of its existence."

"You saw this coming?" Jay asked.

"I knew it was inevitable," Cas answered.

"So. . . you have a plan, right?" she said hopefully.

"You are to stay out of sight at all times," he said, "Preferably here, at Bobby's house."

"That's not a _plan_," Jay said, indignant, "That's a. . . a. . ."

"Pretty good idea," said Bobby.

"If Zachariah knows," mused Sam, "Won't half of Heaven be looking for Jay?"

"This is just a guess," Dean started, "But Zachariah seemed more impatient than usual. Almost desperate. Something tells me the guys upstairs are not happy with him. I mean, he's supposed to get me to close the deal, right? He's already getting chewed out for letting me go, it'd just be insult to injury if he told them he also let the Holy Grail escape."

"No," said Cas, "You're right about one thing: Zachariah _is_ under extreme pressure. However, he will be punished regardless of his failure regarding the Grail-telling them about his discovery would only help his case. After all, the Grail has been missing for hundreds of years. If both Sam and Dean refuse to say yes to Lucifer and Michael, it could be a deciding factor in the war's victor."

Jay's face paled, and Dean said, "Cas, there isn't going to _be_ a war." He raised his eyebrows at Castiel.

Cas almost missed his cue, but then Charlie started staring at him, too. "Of. . . of course." He nodded at Jay and took on what she figured was supposed to be a comforting tone, "Our goal is to prevent it from escalating. It would be no use to try and get at the Grail, in any case. It's melded to your being and therefore you are the only one that can use its power."

"Thanks, Cas," said Jay, appreciating the effort at least.

"Well, that settles it, I guess," Bobby sighed, "Let's get on with our lives, shall we?" Charlie barked once in agreement, and Bobby rolled his eyes but patted the mutt affectionately.

"Wait, what's settled here?" Jay demanded.

"Well, you're staying put," said Sam, "We can't risk an angel attack on you."

"_Don't_," Dean warned, pointing a finger at her as she stood up angrily, "I know you're going to argue, but get real, Jay. It's best, and you know it."

"It's not permanent," Sam assured her. "Just until we get some intel on your wanted status with the angels, alright?"

"Yeah, that won't take long," she said sarcastically, "We'll just wait until we meet one of our non-fallen angels spies, shall we?"

"You've got forever," said Dean, "Sit back and relax."

* * *

><p>Weeks passed by with no event. Sam and Dean stopped in a few times with fresh cuts and bruises, nothing a little sleep wouldn't help. The first few weeks, Bobby kept Jay busy by teaching her about fixing cars.<p>

"How old are you again?" he asked incredulously when she admitted she didn't know much about engines or car parts. "Two hundred years and you can't fix a car?"

"_Automobiles_ were only popular for, like, _sixty_ of those years, Bobby," she argued, her face flushing. "I never liked them and they kept coming up with different designs! I never had any _use_ for fixing them. If one broke down I just stole another one. I mean, there's a reason I've never given you crap for being old and not being able to figure out anything with a touch screen."

It was Bobby's turn to be embarrassed. "That's. . ! That's different!"

"Is _not_," she insisted. But she took her lessons gracefully and quickly learned how to salvage parts on her own. Besides tearing apart cars, she also ran general errands for Bobby and tried her best to help him with research. She watched TV, she cooked, she translated old French texts. Nevertheless, she still had plenty of time to sit around and mope about being on probation. Whenever Sam and Dean came back for a pit stop she would interrogate them at the dinner table.

"Where have you been?"

"None of your business," Dean grunted.

"Sam, Dean's being a jerk."

"We were in Minnesota, then Missouri," Sam supplied helpfully.

"What were you hunting? Did you run into any demons? Angels? Where's Cas?"

Dean threw up his hands, "God_damn_, Jay. Let us eat."

Jay looked at Sam for help, but was disappointed when he said, "Sorry, Jay, but Dean's right. Coming back to the Spanish Inquisition isn't exactly a rest stop. Don't worry-nothing happened."

She sighed and poked at her food, mumbling, "No, nothing happened _here_."

"At least you've got hot showers and an oven and decent food," said Dean. "If I recall correctly, when we first met you'd have given anything just for a hot breakfast."

"Yeah, because I'd been hitchhiking for _days_," she protested, "I've been cooped up here for weeks! I need to get my hands on something."

"When we met you also denied being a hunter," Sam noted. He only smiled when Jay threw him a dirty look.

"Words coming back to bite me in the ass," she said. "Perfect. So. Where is Cas?"

Dean shrugged. "It was weird, actually. He looked like he got this massive headache and he just up and vanished."

The sound of clinking silverware suddenly stopped as they all looked up.

"What?" said Sam, "Dude, you did not tell me that."

"It's _Cas_. He'll be fine. He disappears all the time."

"Do angels normally get headaches?" Jay asked quizzically.

"Did he say anything about it?" Bobby asked.

Dean spoke through a mouthful of food, seemingly unconcerned. "He just said he had to go. I'm sure he'll check in s-"

They all jumped when Cas appeared at Bobby's side.

"Speak of the devil," said Bobby wryly.

"Lucifer has not affected me," said Cas, giving Bobby a strange look, "I bring news about him, though."

"What news?" Dean asked, before Cas even finished his sentence.

"I sensed an unusual gathering of reapers," said Cas, "And found a demon who gave up Lucifer's whereabouts."

"So, where about is he?" Jay asked, egging him onward.

"Carthage, Missouri."

The four of them exchanged looks around the dinner table, as if all asking for one another's permission.

Bobby broke the silence. "We'll need some help."

* * *

><p>Charlie announced Ellen and Jo's arrival by standing with his forepaws against the front door, barking and wagging his tail furiously.<p>

"When did you get a dog?" Jo asked as Charlie ran circles around her and her mother.

"It's hers," said Bobby, nodding at Jay. Jay waved. She had heard about Ellen and Jo before, and was excited to have some acquaintances who were not weighed down by testosterone by the time the world ended.

After greeting Bobby, Sam and Dean with the appropriate hugs and handshakes, Ellen and Jo approached Jay, who was waiting her turn in the background.

"You must be Jay," said Ellen, offering her hand.

"You must be Ellen," said Jay, shaking it, "And you're Jo."

Jo smiled and nodded. "So, the boys tell us you've been hunting for a long time."

"Understatement," said Jay.

"Oh, that's right," said Sam, "Um, Jay, Ellen and Jo don't really. . . know about you."

"You've told us about her like ten times," said Ellen, "Really Jay, you've got some expectations to live up to."

"Yeaaaah," Dean drawled, "But, you know, we left some details out."

"Like what?" asked Jo.

"She's a saint," said Castiel, "The historical figure, Joan of Arc. Also she holds the power of the Holy Grail."

After a pause, Jo said, "Your angel grew a sense of humor."

"Yeah, no," said Dean. "He's serious. As always."

Ellen and Jo looked at Jay simultaneously, wearing twin expressions of surprise mingled with amusement.

"Boys," said Ellen, "You've got some explaining to do."

* * *

><p>"So," said Jo, after a long talk, "We've got <em>the<em> Holy Grail on our side, which, according to our angel friend here, is one of the most powerful holy artifacts in the world. Why the arsenal? Can't she just walk into Carthage and miracle the devil in oblivion?"

Jay snorted. "I wish."

"We've witnessed a few 'miracles' as you say," said Cas, "Two instances of time travel, one instance of complete healing, and certain continuous traits of extrasensory perception. But the predominance of the Grail's power remains unattainable."

"Like he said," Jay sighed, "I still haven't really been able to tap into it. When I do, it's involuntary."

"Ain't that a bitch," said Ellen, "Just our luck, too. No offense, Jay."

Jay shrugged, "None taken. I pretty much feel the same way."

"And how long has it been?" Jo asked, "Two hundred years?"

"Two hundred eleven," said Jay, "Nineteen of which I was a normal girl. I mean. Sort of. I _am_ in the history books, after all."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a real star," Dean snarked. "Can we get back to business, please?"

"Oh, you mean killing the devil?" said Ellen. "Ride into town, stick a bullet in his skull. Yeah, sure, sounds easy enough. You _do_ have the Colt, right?"

"We got it," said Bobby. "Had it for some time now."

"You don't _plan_ this thing," said Sam, and everyone looked at him. "What? You know I'm right. Lucifer's always one step ahead; we've got to assume he knows we're coming. There's nothing _to_ plan. It'd fall apart right away."

"He's right," Jay agreed, "I'm better with improv anyway."

"So," said Bobby, "Tonight's the night. What do y'all feel like doing?"

* * *

><p>"I noticed you haven't had a beer all night," said Jo, "Is that like a saint thing, or a Frenchies prefer wine thing?"<p>

Jay laughed. "It's a saint thing," she said, "I just never got into the habit I guess."

"Unusual, for a hunter," said Jo, polishing off the rest of her first bottle. "But then, so is being a saint. So, what do you think?"

"I think I've held off this long," said Jay, shaking her head, "Might as well make it a record."

Jo smiled, "Not about the beer. I meant, what do you think about the mission?"

"The mission," Jay mused, "Well, you know what they say. _Vouloir, c'est pouvoir_."

"Say what?"

"To want is to be able to," Jay translated, "Or, in familiar terms, where there's a will, there's a way,"

Jo snorted, "Sounds better in French," she noted.

"Only because it doesn't sound like a cliche that way."

"So you really think we can do it?" Jo asked quietly.

Jay sighed. "Who am I to say? Of course I think we _can_. But if you're asking me of all people about impossibilities, well, you won't find much disbelief here. I mean, you're a hunter. You're supposed to thrive on the unbelievable."

"Touche," said Jo, "I guess I'm just nervous."

Jay nodded at the empty bottle, "Hence the beer."

"Yeah," Jo closed one eye and looked through the top of the bottle, swirling the last drops around the bottom. "I'm getting another."

Jo made a stop by the table where her mother, Bobby and Cas were gathered and took requests before heading to the fridge. Jay watched with interest as Dean sidled up behind her and turned on his usual charm. Jay had the urge to taunt him, but instead watched Jo's reaction. Jo set down the beers and brought Dean's face closer to hers, and Jay thought she had lost her drinking buddy for the night. However, after a moment's pause Jo pushed Dean's face away, and Jay listened closely to catch the tail end of her sentence: ". . . spend it with a little thing I call self-respect."

Then Jo smiled, laughed a little and returned to her seat next to Jay.

"If you're into that kind of thing," Dean called after her.

"Nice wit, Casanova," Jay yelled back. Dean grumbled, took his beer and sat across from Sam in the next room. Jay could only imagine what sorts of things they were discussing.

Jo chuckled, "Can you believe him?"

Jay smiled, "Actually I'm surprised you didn't go for it."

"What?" Jo scoffed.

"Well, I can tell you like him." After seeing Jo blush, Jay added, "It's not _really_ obvious, Jo. I just, you know, caught on. We'll call it ESP."

"Sure," said Jo, "Just saying that to make me feel less embarrassed."

"No way!" Jay protested, "That was one hundred per cent honesty. And, I mean, it's _Dean_. He. . ." she trailed off and went for the bowl of popcorn on the table. She'd been about to say something along the lines of how he got a girl every time they walked into a bar, but then reconsidered when she realized Jo might not want to hear about it.

"What, you like him too?" Jo asked.

Jay almost choked on her popcorn laughing. It caught her off guard, and she was relieved; she'd thought Jo would prod her to finish her original sentence, but this was a much more comfortable subject.

"No," Jay laughed, "Are you kidding? Er. No offense to your taste or anything, but. . ."

"But what?" she asked.

Jay shrugged, and had to ponder this, "I. . . I don't know, actually. I've never thought about it before. He's kind of like. . . he's like a kid who thinks he knows better than you."

"I guess you _are_ two hundred," Jo mused, "And being a saint can't hurt either."

"I'm actually not sure where I stand on the whole sainthood thing," Jay said. "I mean, when I first got started it was like _man. _I had to stop guys from drinking, no one could swear around me, and don't even _get_ me started on prostitutes back then. . ."

"Whoa whoa," said Jo, "Is this, like, Joan of Arc stuff?"

"Oh. Yeah. I probably should have given you some context." said Jay, "Ancient France. Long story short; some angels sent me off to war and I led us into some victories. I had to whip them into shape before we really got started, though."

"You're _awesome_," said Jo, in actual awe.

"Jo m'dear," said Jay, "You were also quite impressive when you turned down the object of your desires and kept ahold of your dignity."

"Well it's very impressive when you say it like that," Jo chuckled.

"I was a great speaker, back in the day," Jay said, "You should've seen me."

"Do you miss it?"

"Hm?"

"Do you miss it?" Jo repeated. "Being Joan of Arc?"

"I miss. . . well, not the fighting. I didn't want to be there in the first place. I thought I had a duty to God. I thought 'He tells me to go, so I gotta go'. I didn't even regret it. Not for a long time. But I wanted to be at home. I wanted my family."

"I'm sorry," said Jo.

"You should be," Jay said sarcastically, "It's definitely your fault."

Jo rolled her eyes and punched Jay's shoulder, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah." Jay chuckled, "Thanks, anyway."

Their moment of silent bonding was over when Bobby called at them from the living room.

"What's up?" Jo asked, then saw the camera. "Aw you're kidding."

"We're taking a picture?" Jay asked, "Whose idea was this?"

"Mine," Bobby grunted, "Shut up and squeeze in." Cas, Sam and Dean were lined up with Ellen standing in front of them while Bobby fiddled with the camera.

"Bobby, nobody wants their picture taken," Ellen insisted.

"Hear, hear," Sam agreed. Jay groaned as she and Jo stood at the edge of the picture, with Dean's arm stretching over their shoulders.

"Quit whining, you're drinkin' my beer," Bobby said."Anyways, I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by." He rolled away from the camera and took his position by Ellen.

Jo and Jay exchanged looks while Ellen said, "Always good to have an optimist around."

"Bobby's right," said Cas, "Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on Earth."

_Click_.


	23. Chapter 23: I Think I Can

**Well, after another long hiatus. . .**

**This ties in with S5 Abandon All Hope, in which team freedom fights the devil in Carthage, Missouri.**

**Thanks for reading**

**Reviews please?**

**Chapter 23: I Think I Can**

They were silent most of the way, and what conversation they made never ventured to the mission. Ellen drove, Jo sat shotgun, and Jay sat in the back with Cas. Sam and Dean had taken the Impala and were leading the way. When they drove past the green sign that declared they had officially arrived in Carthage, Jay chuckled to herself when she saw the sign had not been vandalized with any warnings or foreboding words. But then, life was not the movies.

The green sign, however informative, had lied about the population. There was not a single sign of recent life in the premises. Their cars rolled in and disturbed nothing.

"Well." said Jo, stepping out and standing next to Jay. "This isn't looking too hot."

Jay rubbed her eyes, "I think I slept too long in the car. I'm seeing fuzzies."

"Fuzzies?" Jo asked.

"Yeah. Like, blurs and some flashes and things. They'll go away soon."

"You are not experiencing issues with your vision." Castiel said.

"I'm not?" Jay asked.

The angel shook his head. "No. This town isn't empty. There are reapers."

"Reaper_s_?" Ellen asked, "More than one?"

Castiel turned to Jay. "Look harder," he instructed, "You know they're there."

Jay squinted. It was as if a faulty projector had suddenly interrupted her mind's eye, blurring and flashing the image, but sure enough, they were there. Men and women dressed in black, standing spaced out in the street, on the roofs, wherever she looked.

"I've never been able to see them before." said Jay, trying to focus.

"I assume you have, but have never noticed them," said Cas, then continued with a look of deep concern, "They only gather like this in times of great catastrophe. Chicago fire, San Francisco quake, Pompeii. . .Excuse me. I need to find out why they're here."

Jo and Ellen looked at each other while Jay looked onward. "Do they talk?" she asked, but Cas had moved on and was no longer paying attention. Jay looked for him and lost her Reaper-vision immediately. "Dammit."

"Dammit," said Dean, "We've been in town twenty minutes and we already lost the angel up our sleeve." he checked the bullets in the Colt again and held it at the ready.

"Think Lucifer got him?" Ellen asked.

"What else?" Dean grumbled.

"He'll be okay," Jay said, with more reassurance than she felt. She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it.

"Ever the optimist," Jo chuckled.

They turned a corner and were greeted by a most unwelcome sight.

Jay immediately took a step back and said "Holy shit." Charlie stood in front of her and bared his teeth in a vicious snarl.

It was a woman with long, dark hair and a chilling grin, and she was accompanied by a pack of large, vicious hellhounds, which, Jay realized, the others could not see. She almost envied them―she could have done with a lack of hollow, hungry red eyes in her nightmares. She hadn't previously been able to see them so clearly, either. In past skirmishes they had been little more than blurs or heat waves to her. But now they were there in full force, completely visible, and she suspected that Cas's instruction on Reaper-watching had helped.

Meg waved. "There you are!"

Their guns were ready to fire in less than a second. "Meg," Sam barked across the street.

"The Meg?" Jay asked Sam quietly. The boys had had many unpleasant stories to share about the demon.

"The one and only!" Meg said cheerily. "You boys shouldn't have come here."

Jay nudged Dean. "Dean," she murmured. "Give me the Colt."

"I was going to say the same to you," said Dean, aiming the Colt at her. He whispered to Jay out of the corner of his mouth, "Why?"

"I didn't come alone."

A splash in the puddle next to her, claws scraping the ground, snarls.

"Hellhounds," Jay announced, partially to say voice their thoughts and partially to answer Dean's question.

"Yeah, Dean!" said Meg, "Your favorite!"

Dean balked visibly.

"Now," Meg went on, "My father would like to see you."

"I think we'll pass, thanks," Sam yelled.

"Your call," said Meg. "You can make this easy, or you can make it really, _really_ hard."

"_Dean!_" Jay hissed, "_Give me the Colt!_" To her surprise and frustration he pushed her back with his shoulder, and she realized―he didn't know she could see them. How could he? Besides their first meeting they had never fought hellhounds together, and it had never come up. If she told him now, she could take out more hellhounds than he would, but Meg might find out about the Grail. There weren't even enough bullets in the Colt to take out the pack at Meg's command, and she would have zero time to reload. But then, there were five shots, and three hellhounds was better than eight.

Dean was looking back at Ellen for approval and Jay caught his eye.

"I can see them," she said under her breath. For a moment she thought he hadn't heard her―but then he nodded and the next two seconds consisted of the smoothest firearm trade-off Jay had ever partaken in. "Nice," she said, and held the Colt at arms length, aimed at the nearest hellhound.

In answer to Meg's offer, Dean said, "When have you known us to make anything easy?"

Jay fired two shots in quick succession, and that was two less hellhounds that they needed to worry about. In the same instant, Dean yelled "RUN!" and they all turned heel and booked it in the opposite direction.

The third bullet she aimed to her right, another hellhound down.

The fourth missed, and she would have paid dearly for it if Charlie had not tackled the hellhound three times his size and ripped its throat out.

Jay picked herself up, cooed a soft thanks to Charlie and they ran on together until they had caught up to the others and were matching Dean stride for stride at the back of their party.

One moment he was beside her, and the next he had fallen―it almost didn't register to her to look back for him. All that mattered were her feet hitting the pavement, pounding, one in front of the other, until she put as much distance between herself and the red eyes as possible. It was Jo that brought her back to reality. Jo whipped around to see her fallen friend and screamed "Dean!"

Jay turned and skidded to a halt, and went to help Dean up as Jo fired rock salt at the offending hellhound. For someone who couldn't see her target, she was an incredibly good shot. "Jo!" Jay yelled, just before another hellhound tackled Jo.

The fifth bullet killed it, but not before it had taken out a chunk of Jo's side.

Now all three of them were down for the count; a hound had ripped into Dean's leg and shredded Jo's stomach, and with the Colt out of bullets, Jay was unarmed. Now, out of eight, three hellhounds were left standing. Four had been the Colt's work, and the fifth was still recovering from Jo's multiple rock-salt shots.

_One hound for each of us, _Jay thought as she saw the hellhounds quickly closing in. They had lost their head start, and even without two of them injured they could never outrun hellhounds. _Time_, she thought, _we need more time_.

Jay would obsess over what happened next. It would haunt her dreams and waking hours, and she would analyze it, moment for moment, detail for detail, and watch every possible outcome in her mind's eye, and each time she reviewed the scene she would be so overcome with guilt and fury that it would lead her to temporary bouts of madness.

Charlie saved them.

He stood between them and the hellhounds, their only barrier. He did not growl, snarl, or bark in answer to his opponents' vicious threats. He only stared back at them, unwavering.

The hellhounds attacked. There seemed to be an odd mutual understanding between the canines that all three would go for Charlie, though they could just as easily have separated and attacked the others. Charlie was fast, strong, tough as nails. He had experience, and ferocity to match it, and he fought off the hellhounds while the others reoriented themselves.

Upon realizing they were not being torn apart, Dean stood up, hauled Jay to her feet, and after briefly looking her over for injury, went to attend to Jo, who desperately needed his help. Sam and Ellen were also there, assisting, and the four of them were gathered in a tight huddle, moving onwards. Jay was standing in the same place she had fallen.

She felt as if the world had gone still, had held its breath in anticipation, but for what she dared not guess. She didn't want to know. But there was a small stab of premonition at the back of her mind before she felt everything regain its regular pace.

"_Jay_! _COME ON!_" Dean screamed.

Charlie was not doing well. He was outgunned.

She called for him to come to her, to run from the fight. She knew that if he did retreat the hounds would be after them again and they probably wouldn't make it to safety. She didn't care. She wanted him beside her again.

But he didn't answer her call.

Jay felt arms around her, restraining her, dragging her away and she screamed bloody murder to be released, kicked and writhed and pushed, all while watching her beloved partner gradually succumb to his opponents. By the time she was in the hardware store, crying uncontrollably, Charlie's howling had ceased to silence.

Sam, who had pulled her back, knelt beside her after lining the walls and windows with salt.

"Jay," he said gently. He reached out a hand but she slapped him away, shaking her head vigorously and curling into herself more, as if hiding her head and making herself smaller would fix everything.

But Charlie's sacrifice had only postponed the danger, and time was of the essence. Sam shook her once, hard enough for her to lift her head uncurl herself, and then pulled her into a tight hug.

"Jay, I'm sorry," he said softly, "I'm sorry about Charlie. But we've still got a mission and we need you with us."

Dean held the phone against his ear and let it ring. "How is she?" Dean asked, nodding at Jay. She had, for the most part, stopped crying, but now she leaned back against the shelves of the hardware store and stared at nothing. She barely moved.

"Shaken," said Sam, "I think it should be okay."

"Well we'd better hope so," said Dean, "Jo needs fixing up, and bad. Hang on―Bobby?"

Dean retreated to a more seclusive corner of the store to speak to the old hunter.

After a brief exchange, Dean handed Jay the phone. For a moment, she looked at it with red-rimmed eyes as if she didn't know what it was. But she put it up to her ear and listened, expressionless. While Bobby spoke to her, Sam and Dean went around the store getting various things that could pass for items in a first-aid kit.

"Listen, kiddo," he said, "Dean's got doubts about Jo pulling through." She nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her. "Now, I told him to can it and carry on patching her up, but like he said, it looks pretty bad." Bobby paused. "You there?"

"Yes," she said. Her voice trembled; she barely got the word out.

"I need to know. Can you help her?"

Finally Jay stood up. She looked over the shelf at Jo, lying on her back with her stomach ripped open and her mother at her side, watching the boys try to sew her back together.

_Nothing is broken._

Jay grimaced and turned away.

"Yes," she said, filled with sudden resolution, "Yes I can."

"That's my girl," said Bobby, and there was a simultaneously click on both ends of the line.

"Here," said Jay, after Sam and Dean had done their best to wrap Jo's injury. "Let me see."

Sam, Dean, and Ellen looked at each other.

Jay was sure of her movements. She knelt next to Jo, one hand on the girl's shoulder and the other hovering over her stomach.

"Hey, Jo," she said.

"I thought you said you couldn't really control it," said Jo, softly.

Jay said nothing. She looked at the wound, then at Jo. She bent her head and closed her eyes and willed some kind of power to come to her.

_Nothing is broken_.

She closed her eyes and at first all she could see was Charlie. But she moved past him and thought about Jo: she could see her healthy and happy again, with her mother. They would all be grim about Lucifer but relieved to be with one another alive, whether or not the mission was a success. Jo would hunt with Sam and Dean and Ellen again. She and Jay would get to know each other more, swap jokes and stories, maybe take on hunting jobs together. They would end the Apocalypse or fight through it. Jay knew this, and she knew it because it would be a complete, universal waste if Jo Harvelle bled to death in a hardware store in Carthage, Missouri. When she opened her eyes Jo would be fresh and new as the day she was born.

Jay opened her eyes.

She saw Jo still bleeding out.

It was mostly their expressions, though, not the sight of the gaping gash that made her accept this. They were utterly disappointed, all of them.

"But―" Jay began.

"Jay," Jo interrupted, weakly. "It's alright."

"But I―"

"I know. Thank you." said Jo, "It's okay."

Jay started to protest again, still in shock at her failure and Jo finally said, firmly, "It's not your fault. Promise me you won't blame yourself for this, understand? Understand?"

"No!" cried Jay. She could not look any of them in the eye, Ellen least of all.

Jo ignored this, "Okay guys, let's be realistic. My guts are being held in by an Ace bandage. We need a plan of action. What do we know about explosives?"

Jay went silent as they spoke, and Sam and Dean went to work building a bomb. Ellen sat by her daughter and cradled her head against her shoulder.

* * *

><p>The Winchesters formed a plan with propane and nails in record time, and while Ellen and Sam were busy getting the detonator ready, Dean found Jay curled up with her knees against her chest in a corner of the store. She was staring off into space again. She had no expression. He waved a hand in front of her face, almost as a joke, but her eyes were blank and unseeing.<p>

"Jay," he said. "Jay." He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. Nothing. No response. "Jay, you gotta snap out of it."

Jay murmured something incomprehensible, and he realized her lips had been moving ever-so-slightly the whole time. She was talking to herself.

"What?" Dean asked. Still no response. He leaned closer. "Jay?"

"What is the point?" she was saying, "What is the point of me?"

* * *

><p>Jay was dimly aware of her existence. She was not really seeing, hearing, or comprehending anything. She was not lost in thought nor reliving memories. It was floating in endless nothingness, like―<p>

"OW!" Jay's hand immediately flew to her face. Dean Winchester was very close, and very angry.

"Are you paying attention?" he barked.

"You hit me," she muttered, realizing.

"I'm sick of you spacing out," he said, not so much as an explanation for his actions as a general complaint, "I'm sorry about Charlie, Jay. I'm sorry. But pull your shit together _right_ _now_."

And with that, Dean stood up and left her in the corner, cradling her aching cheek.

Jay stood too, slowly, using the shelves for support. The boys were busy saying their goodbyes to Jo. Jay waited silently, distant, and watched them give their hugs and kisses, and argue with Ellen about staying behind with her daughter.

"You calmed down," said Jo, when it was Jay's turn to kneel next to her and choose her last words.

"It seemed really pathetic," said Jay, "that you had to comfort me about dying." Jo snorted a laugh. "I'm sorry, Jo." she said.

"Yeah," Jo sighed, "Yeah."

They left her there, then, with Ellen. Sam led the way out, onto the fire escape, with Dean in the rear and Jay between both of them. She wondered if they'd done that on purpose, to make sure she didn't go wild again.

They were barely far enough when the building exploded―a shower of debris, a wave of intense heat and wind, and Jay slipped into nothingness again.

* * *

><p><em>Nothing is broken.<em>

* * *

><p>"What's wrong with her?" Sam asked. "Jay? <em>Jay<em>."

"Here," Dean grunted. He took her by the shoulders and shook her, hard. She blinked, and looked up at him, and seemed strangely passive.

"Reload it," she said.

"What?" Sam asked.

"The Colt," Jay explained, "We need to reload the Colt. We used all the bullets in the cylinder and we never reloaded it."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, then Dean reloaded the Colt. "You sure you're okay?" Sam asked.

"Okay," said Jay, "Lead on."

* * *

><p>Jay was not sure that she was entirely herself. She was not quite so out of it that she barely knew where she was, but she felt distant, like she was walking through a dream. Charlie and Jo and Ellen seemed insignificant and painless. She followed the Winchesters through the woods, creeping quietly behind them, hearing what might be their last words to each other and not finding the motivation to care.<p>

When Jay saw him, though, she was brought fully back into the world.

She was gripped by a sudden energy and jerked to attention, stopping dead in her tracks, greatly alarming Sam and Dean as she did so.

"Jay?" Dean breathed.

"I―I―" she couldn't get the words out. She didn't think she really needed to, but she would have felt better if they hadn't caught in her throat.

Sam pushed gently at her shoulder, and she realized that her hand was clenched tightly around his arm. She willed herself to let go, and then the three of them stepped out of the cover of the woods to see the devil.

* * *

><p>Sam was the bait, of course. She and Dean weaved their way through comatose bodies (demons, she thought, ordered to stand around and wait their demise) while Sam strode into the open armed to the teeth.<p>

"HEY!" She heard his voice call out in the distance. She and Dean hid in the crowd, waiting. "You wanted to see me?"

"Oh, Sam,"

That was Lucifer. His voice made her blood run cold, and for a moment she doubted that she had the ability to go on. It seemed much safer to retreat to the woods and run as fast and as far as she could in the other direction. Where was Cas? Where was their angel, their trump card? She certainly didn't fit the bill anymore. Lucifer was literally in their sights, so close. . .

Dean put a hand on her shoulder. He looked sad, determined. . . anything but frightened. Jay was filled with a sudden relief, if only for the fact that she was not the one holding the Colt.

Jay grimaced, then nodded once, and they moved in.

". . .would never hurt you," the devil was saying. "Not really."

Jay had had to stop yards before, but Dean was right next to him.

"Yeah," Dean growled, "Well I'd hurt you."

The barrel of the gun was right next to Lucifer's head.

He couldn't miss.

"So suck it."

Dean fired.

* * *

><p>Jay let out the breath she'd been holding and gasped. Lucifer hit the ground before the echo of the shot had finished ringing out.<p>

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Then they looked at Lucifer, lying on the ground. They seemed to have forgotten about Jay.

Jay seemed to have forgotten about Jay. She was staring at the ground, at the body, the vessel, where the Morningstar lived. She felt empty again. Nowhere. Nothing.

Even when he lifted himself off the ground with a groan of pain, she didn't tremble, though moments before she had been shaking. Even when he looked at Dean and flung him against a tree with an audible crack, she didn't move. She saw Sam running to help his brother and did not assist him. She wasn't there until Lucifer touched her. Then, she was rushing back to the world again and the only things she felt were fear and cold.

He had a hand around her neck, but he wasn't hurting her, really. There was only the threat of strangulation, only a hint of pressure, but the contact was enough to freeze her to the spot. She went rigid and released a tiny, involuntary whimper.

"What's _this?_" Lucifer whispered. For a moment he seemed genuinely puzzled. "You're not an angel. You're not a demon. But. . . not quite human, either?"

There was so much fear. She'd never wanted to run so badly in her life, but her feet would not listen. She wanted to bury herself. She did not hold her breath so much as she forgot to breathe. She wanted to be nothing and no one. And the more she was aware of her fear, the more afraid she became, until

_Allow me_

* * *

><p>Lucifer had an effect on many humans, but this sort of reaction was usually unwarranted unless he actually <em>tried<em> to scare someone. Who was she? She was incoherent with fear. It was stronger with every pulse, and he wasn't even hurting her. He was trying to solve her, and he felt her suddenly relax in his grip and he looked into her face and saw that she was no longer afraid.

And her eyes were glowing with holy white light.

"Shit," he said, and then the girl put a hand on his chest and sent him flying with such force that he broke the tree he flew into. He had to heal his vessel's broken spine before standing up, and by the time he stood, he knew his enemy.

"Lucifer," she said. He didn't know who the girl was. She was unimportant.

"This is different," the fallen angel stretched. "I didn't realize that the Grail could be. . .conscious."

"We have been working at it," said the Grail. "It is very strange."

Lucifer made no move to stop the girl as she walked slowly to where Sam and Dean were lying. He wasn't sure what response he might provoke. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"We will return the brothers and the angel to safety," said the Grail, "Away from you."

"Why?" he asked. Perhaps a good prodding would change its impressionable new mind.

"_Au revoir,_" she said, and then they disappeared.


	24. Chapter 24: Nothing Broken

**Well, in the last few bits, Jo and Ellen and Charlie died, Lucifer found out Jay is the Grail, and then the Grail showed up semi-possessing Jay and saved everybody as Lucifer was raising Death. I'd go read it if that was at all confusing.**

**This took a long time to write, and I am unsatisfied with it because it seems like a filler in order to get to more important points. WHATEVER, IT'S NECESSARY.**

**Thanks for reading :) Reviews are welcome and much appreciated.**

**Chapter 24: Nothing is Broken**

"You are safe."

It was Jay, but it was not her words nor her voice; what came out of her mouth was too deep, and too clear, like several people speaking in perfect, harmonic unison.

"Jay?" Sam asked. He was sitting on the floor next to an unconscious Dean, with Castiel standing between them and her.

Jay turned to stare at him and he was horrified to she that she was leaking light through her eyes and lips, and every movement she made seemed punctuated by a small wisp of light. "We are not Jay," she replied. "Not quite."

Cas spoke next. "How are you doing this?" he asked. Sam couldn't tell if the angel disapproved or not.

"She was too frightened to act," said the Grail, "We saw an opportunity and took it. We saved all of you. Lucifer was in the process of raising the great horseman, Death." As she said this, the Grail moved around Cas, bent down and touched Dean's forehead. He woke up with a start, gasping for air.

"What the hell?" he asked. "Where are we?"

For the first time, Sam looked around.

"We are outside Bobby's home." said the Grail, "Should I alert him?"

"I will do so," said Cas. He was back in an instant, with Bobby in tow.

The old man took one look at Jay and said, "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing is _wrong_," said the Grail, sounding offended, "Nothing is broken."

* * *

><p>They moved themselves to the house and formed a circle in the living room. Sam and Dean sat on the couch, Bobby next to them in his wheelchair, and Cas and Jay standing across from them.<p>

"You have all your power now?" Cas asked hopefully, "You're in control?"

"We are," said the Grail. "and we find consciousness disturbing."

"You can raise the dead, then," said Dean, suddenly, "You can bring Jo and Ellen-"

"We will _not_." said the Grail, and though she spoke quietly, the house seemed to vibrate at her words.

"But you can!" Dean protested, "You can fix this!"

"Nothing is broken," the Grail said. "We have the power to bring what is dead back to life, but we will never do this."

"Why not?" Sam asked, "What about Charlie?"

For a moment a spasm of confusion passed over Jay's face, then the Grail said, "Oh, you mean the dog. That is life, too, and we will not bring the dog back, either."

"Why?" Dean demanded furiously.

"It is not the order of things," said the Grail, "Life passes into death, and there it remains. It is the balance that must be kept. It is the natural way. Your friends have passed into death, and so will all of you. The timing is inconsequential, though it may upset you."

"_Upset me?_" Dean stood from the couch and looked murderous.

Sam stood too, "But you raised the zombie kid in-"

"That was not us!" the Grail roared, and now she looked angry. She calmed quickly. "That was a mistake. It was Jay that used our power. She had no selfishness or consciousness about it, and so she was able to borrow it. But she was not able to heal your friends or help her pet because she was, in those moments, consumed with emotion. She was greed itself. Tonight, Lucifer has raised the horseman Death, who is our better, our most respected opposite. We would not give such insult as to raise the dead in Death's presence. It is foolish and human to think death is a _wrong_ thing."

As Sam, Dean, and Bobby stood dumbfounded, Cas spoke.

"How is it," he began, "that you are able to use Jay as a vessel?"

"How do angels do it?" asked the Grail, "How do demons? How do spirits?"

"But we are all conscious beings," said Cas, "Sentient. You have no such advantage."

"It is for this reason that we are able to so fully be a part of her," said the Grail, "Although, it took time. And practice. We had to borrow her consciousness as she borrowed our power. She began to experience side effects."

"Like spacing out? Seeing reapers and hellhounds?" Dean asked.

"All of those things, yes," said the Grail.

"But why won't you help us?" said Sam, "You should want the same things as Jay. You're her."

"As we said, Sam Winchester: not quite."

* * *

><p><em>Jay watched.<em>

_ "Consciousness does not suit me," the Grail thought to her._

_ "It really doesn't," said Jay, "Nor does dormancy suit me, although I thought it might, once. Do not do this again. "_

_ "I apologize."_

_ "It's fine," said Jay, "I'm glad you did it, just this time. We would have all died otherwise."_

_ "Do you understand why I will not give you Jo and Ellen and Charlie?"_

_ "Yes," Jay sighed, "I don't like it, but I understand. They are not yours to give. Now, let me out."_

_ "Certainly."_

* * *

><p>"We must go," said the Grail quietly, "Jay is very insistent."<p>

Jay collapsed, and Cas caught her and slowly lifted her back on her feet. The light was gone, and Bobby's living room seemed far less eerie without it.

"Jay?" Bobby asked, unsure.

"It's me," she said. "We have a problem."

"Yes, it appears the Grail has grown fully self-aware and has the ability to posses you." said Cas.

"No," Jay shook her head and held her nose between two fingers. "It won't happen again, I think. The problem is, since our little showdown tanked, Lucifer knows who I am. He knows _what_ I am."

Sam spoke, his tone grim, "First Zachariah, now Lucifer. . .you've got both sides of the playing field coming for you."

Jay let out a long sigh, then plodded towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked.

"I'm going to bed," she answered. "I suggest you do the same. Except for you, Cas. Do whatever angels do."

* * *

><p>Jay found a reaper waiting in her room, a tall, pale man with dark hair and a handsome face. He knew her, and she knew him.<p>

"Dorian. . .?" she said, frowning. Like the reapers in Carthage, he was a faded, scratchy image.

The reaper was taken aback; his eyes widened and he tilted his head to one side, asking, "You see me?"

"And hear you," she said, "And. . . remember you, now. I haven't even died. What are you doing here?"

"I have a message," said the reaper, "From Death. I was going to deliver it in a dream, but. . . well. I wasn't expecting this. It's for the Grail, and, I suppose, you, indirectly."

"Tell me," said Jay, "And she'll get it."

"The horseman says captivity is disagreeable. He would hate to see the Grail caught and chained as he is."

"What is that, like a metaphor for being caught in a vessel or something?" Jay asked suspiciously. "Because I know the Grail isn't doing half bad with me, okay."

"No," said Dorian tersely, "It's not a _metaphor._ Lucifer has bound Death, and so Death must do his bidding. He finds it irksome. The armies of Heaven and Hell are searching for the Grail-don't let them find you. Don't become a prisoner."

"Well, I sort of already knew that, but if you're going to report back to him," said Jay, "Give him my thanks, and my respect, of course."

Dorian nodded, but did not move or disappear as Jay expected him to.

"Aren't you going to go? Don't you have someone to reap or something?" she asked, feeling a tad informal. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep, but thought it might be awkward with him still there.

"Jehanne-"

"It's Jay," she said. "Call me Jay."

"You look exhausted." he finished.

Jay frowned at him. She and the reaper had a long history of almost-deaths, which consisted of him showing up only to realize that the Grail anchored her to life. Their meetings were short conversations of mutual respect, using only a choice few words that seemed necessary. This was unprecedented.

She wanted to yell at him, to tell him that her friends had died and that she had been helpless, that she had met Lucifer and had been frozen with fear, unable to face him on her own. Instead she said, "I am exhausted. I'm going to sleep."

Then, trying to ignore him, she slid under the covers and rolled onto her side, where she could not see him. She fancied that she felt him leave, but when she looked over her shoulder a few minutes later, he was standing in the same place.

"Dorian!" Jay hissed.

"Yes?" he asked.

"_What_ are you _doing _here?" she asked, "You've delivered your message and got my return mail. What do you want?"

"Nothing," he said truthfully."You can sleep now,"

"What?" Jay rolled over and faced him, "What do you mean, I can sleep now? I know when I can sleep!"

"I only meant," said Dorian, "I removed the demons outside the house."

Jay bolted upright and stared at him, wide-eyed. "Demons?" she asked. "What are you talking about?"

"They were closing in on the house," he said, "I took them. The place is safe, for now."

Jay opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the words.

"Why?" she finally blurted.

"You and your friends would have killed them either way," the reaper shrugged. "But like I said: you look exhausted."

"But. But." Jay protested. "Thank you, but. . . that's. . . you. . ._intervened_."

For the first time since they had met some two hundred years ago, the reaper allowed her a crooked smile.

"You travel with two men that have died and returned from death many times over," he said, "Every action they take plunges the balance into further chaos. What is a demon or four, already meant to die, in comparison?"

"What about your boss?" Jay asked, "What about Death?"

"You've forgotten his message already," said Dorian, "he would hate to see you, the Grail, taken prisoner as he is. You cannot imagine how he loathes it, so much so that, it seems, he has been pushed to sympathy. That is why I'm here, Jay. I've been sent. I am a guardian, of sorts."

"But that's _cheating_." Jay said accusingly.

Dorian gave a slight shrug, still smiling. "They say one cannot cheat Death, but you're giving him a run for his money. Who's to say Death can't cheat a little, too?"

* * *

><p>Jay did manage to sleep, a little. She was still uncomfortable with the idea of Dorian being there all the time, especially now that she could see him. He had tried a few times to fade out of her sight, but to no avail. She had had to accept it, at least for the time being, and try to sleep. At least she felt a tad safer, knowing there was a reaper looking out for her.<p>

She had been planning out a small speech in her head to make at breakfast, or whatever their usual morning gathering was, and it went something like "I have an announcement: a friendly reaper is following me around." However, she was no sooner down the stairs, with Dorian in tow, than Castiel ruined the surprise.

* * *

><p>Sam, Dean, and Bobby were already awake and moving by the time Jay came downstairs. Dean had yelled at her from the first floor to get her ass moving, this wasn't a hotel, and only then did they hear the sound of her moving about her room, getting ready.<p>

She plodded down in her usual sullen morning manner, and suddenly Cas, who had been silently watching them work the whole time, said, with no particular alarm, "Jay, a reaper is following you. Perhaps he isn't aware that you can't die."

Jay looked back at what appeared to be empty air behind her and gave a sheepish smile.

"This is Dorian," she said lamely. "My reaper."

The three men without third sight looked around, a little alarmed. "What's going on?" Dean asked.

"A reaper is following Jay," Castiel explained.

"He followed me home," said Jay, "Can I keep him?"

"No." said Castiel, oblivious to her humor. "Death is under Lucifer's command. A free-reigning reaper is a spy."

There was a pause in which Jay and Cas looked at the air at the same time and appeared to be listening.

Cas looked at Jay and said, "I don't think this wise."

Jay said, "I trust him."

"Everybody _stop_," said Bobby. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Death gave me a reaper guard to stop demons and angels from getting at me," Jay explained, sitting with them on the couch. She glanced at the empty air, "He's been at all of my near-death experiences. His name's Dorian."

"Oh, peachy," said Dean. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You can't see him, obviously."

"Is he. . . friendly?" Sam asked, exchanging glances with Bobby.

"Well he's on our side. Or mine, I guess." She twiddled her thumbs. Castiel looked as though he were busy arguing with himself in the corner.

"Cas is talking to him?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," said Jay. "It's been a long week."

"Well, our experience with reapers hasn't been all bad," said Dean, thinking of Tessa.

They watched Castiel interrogate the empty space for a while, and Sam muttered, "What's he saying?"

"He's explaining to Cas the duty that Death has given him," said Jay, intent on the conversation. She looked up at Sam. "Namely, protecting me from capture."

"From angels, or demons?" Dean asked.

"Both," she said.

"Helpful," Dean commented.

"What about other things?" Bobby asked. "Other monsters?"

"Not so much," she said, "But it's not like I need it." She sat at attention when she saw that Cas had finished with his questions and seemed satisfied.

"I can't say that I like it," he said grimly, "But the reaper can stay."

"As if you had any real say in it," Dorian scoffed, appearing at Jay's side by the couch. The two glared at each other from across the room. Jay had seen the reaper frustrated and exasperated before-indeed, it was his common manner when he discovered her at each of her near-deaths-but things had never felt tense or hostile. She didn't like the change.

"Calm down," she said, before Cas could retort. "We could use another ally."

"Now," said Bobby, "Let's get back to the Apocalypse."

* * *

><p>Months passed without incident.<p>

Or rather, without any incident involving demons, angels, or the fate of the world. Sam and Dean were back to a more or less regular hunting schedule and allowed that Jay should be allowed to go with them, no matter what Cas or Dorian said. If Cas had his way, the three would have to lay so low as to be unable to leave the house. They took down a minor pagan god, some shapeshifters, a wraith, and a djinn, which spiked Jay and Sam with its "dream-poison" before Dean caught it with a silver knife. Jay recovered and awoke in about twelve hours, and looked considerably shaken. It took Sam far longer to wake up.

"Dreamt of your family?" Dorian asked. Jay looked at him and saw that he already knew the answer.

"I'm fine," she said.

"What?" Dean looked up, alert.

"I was talking to Dorian," she said. She kept forgetting that the others couldn't see or hear him. "How's Sam doing?" she asked.

A shadow passed over Dean's face. "Still out. I think he got hit pretty hard."

"He'll be okay," she said reassuringly. She knew that he would wake up soon-if djinn poison wasn't kept up, the victim would eventually snap out of whatever dream world they were in.

"I'm more worried about what he's dreaming about." he said. "How long did it feel like?"

Jay frowned. "I'm fine."

Dean let that lie slide. "That's not what I asked." he said.

Jay shrugged, then answered reluctantly, "A few weeks."

"What was it?"

"Tell him it's not his business," said Dorian softly, when Jay didn't answer. She just barely resisted snapping at the reaper, irked that he would tell her to say anything, especially after guessing what life she had been dreaming of. He was right, though, and she knew that he wasn't trying to be patronizing.

"None of your business," Jay muttered, and Dean rolled his eyes but didn't prod. The two went back to watching Sam.

When he woke, Jay noted that he looked just as bad as he had when poisoned, if not worse.

* * *

><p>The relative peace was broken when Jay slid out of bed one night with an insatiable itch to take a car and drive as fast and far as possible. She had been working on her own project in the scrapyard for a time. She was not a car fanatic like Dean or Bobby, and did not possess near as much scrapping skill, but she could still appreciate an empty stretch of road at 60 miles an hour with the windows open, and it was about time she'd had her own car. She had only started working on it after Charlie died.<p>

She grabbed her coat off the coat rack and yelled "I'M GOING OUT" to the dark house, not hoping to wake anybody in particular. Cas would tell them where she'd gone, she was sure. She passed the Impala in the garage and had a fleeting notion of taking it, but no-Dean would skin her alive. Instead, she went to her very own car, scrapped together from parts in the yard. Even the shell hadn't come from one car. They'd had to piece it together along with the inside. Bobby had tried teaching her where each of the parts had come from, but she'd mostly forgotten them and adopted Dean's habit of calling it the "Ford Frankenstein."

Today was the day to take it for a joyride, she thought.

When she slid in the door, Dorian was calmly awaiting her in the passenger's seat.

"What are we going?" he asked. He seemed to be more patient with her, now that she was his only responsibility.

"You know," she said, "Sometimes I wish you slept."

"Sometimes I wish you did, too." he answered.

Jay stared at him. "Was that a joke?"

He rewarded her with the faintest hint of a smile.

Jay started up the engine, pleased with the lively thrum, and then pulled out of the yard and onto the empty road.

She drove without knowing where she was going, choosing to turn when she felt like it and slowing only for the roads with the most haphazard twists. She eventually found herself driving on a gravel road up a hill dense with forest, and it was on this road at three in the morning that her headlights went out. Jay hit the brakes immediately and the car came to a screeching halt. The engine was still going, so the rest of the car was fine, but without the headlights she could not see a foot in front of the car.

"Shit." she said. She turned to where Dorian was sitting, barely able to make out his outline in the dim glow of the dashboard.

"That was fun," Dorian said. For some reason the sarcasm comforted her.

"We'll wait until dawn," she sighed. "Then we'll go back."

"Assuming you can find the way," he said. She shrugged, then turned the key and let the car shut off.

A moment later, it turned itself on, headlights included, and standing a few feet ahead was Crowley, looking as calm as ever.


	25. 25: Not a Real Chapter Just An Excuse

Here's the thing, guys:

I got a new computer because I am in college now and it seemed necessary. I am very happy with it. However, this chapter was lost in the depths of my old computer and I have no access to it and I am certainly not going to write this entire chapter again.

So here's very brief summary, and I'll post the actual chapter possibly some time in December, when nobody will actually care about it anymore.

I feel kind of bad but not bad enough to write the whole chapter again. I mean, you've waited this long, I'll skip this semi-filler chapter and get to the real deal. Sorry I've been busy.

* * *

><p>So, basically Jay meets Crowley who dispels Dorian the Reaper for a bit while they talk and obviously she's a little mistrustful of him, but he talks and basically advises her to be on her guard because he's sure that Lucifer has a plan that he has been very vague about and entrusted to very few demons (Crowley sort of included) and it has to do with an extremely powerful demon named Sonneillon, who has been locked deep in hell for a very long time.<p>

Crowley starts Jay's car back up, assures her that the Reaper will find her again, and then Jay goes back to Bobby's.

* * *

><p>Cool? cool.<p>

Again, I apologize for this disappointing, crappy chapter that isn't even really a chapter.


	26. Chapter 26: Exit

**Well. It has been a while. Here we go.**

Chapter 26

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean asked when Jay stepped out of the Frankenstein.

"Out for a drive," Jay said truthfully, "Not a hunting trip or anything. Just thought I'd take a little time for myself. Look," she spun in a circle, "I'm good, I'm fine, not a scratch. Headlights went out though."

"You rigged the whole thing, that's your fault," snorted Dean.

"Dean are you drinking? It's like ten in the morning! Not a good idea," she said. He pulled the beer bottle out of her reach as she tried to take it from him.

"And do you really think going off on your own in the middle of the night is a good idea?"

Jay shrugged. "I'm fine," she said, "Although I did meet Crowley at a crossroads."

Dean choked on his beer. "You _what?_"

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly, "He didn't have much to say that was important, other than Lucifer's been plotting—surprise, surprise—and his plan's got something to do with a demon named Sonneillon." Jay tried to say this with a little less care than she was feeling, but something caught in her throat before she could say the demon's name, and there was a slight hesitation, which was not quite a stutter, before it came out.

"Sonne—what? I'm getting Bobby. BOBBY! SAM!" Dean yelled.

"Where's Cas?" Jay asked, "I thought he would have told you all that I went out."

"We haven't seen him since last night," Dean grunted. "Not sure where he went. Come on, let's get inside."

* * *

><p>"Jay! Where have you been?" Sam's greeting sounded far less accusing and more concerned than Dean's had.<p>

"I went for a drive," she said, "I just needed fresh air."

"Glad you're back," said Bobby, "But I don't think—"

"That I should go out, do anything, yeah, I know, Bobby."

"She met Crowley," Dean put in unhelpfully. "And he says that Lucifer is hatching or has hatched a plan to get the Grail. Something about Sonny the demon."

"_What?_" Sam and Bobby barked in unison.

Jay glared at Dean. "Sonneillon, genius," she said. "And guys, we've been sure that Lucifer has been hatching a plan for months now."

"But to get Crowley riled up enough about it to physically come and warn you?" Sam asked doubtfully. "Jay, that sounds serious."

"Bull," said Jay, "It sounds like what everybody else has been telling me. Lay low, be careful, don't get caught." But she sounded a little unsure, even to herself, so she added, "What are they going to do, attack Bobby's off-the-map, Apocalypse-proof safehouse?"

"It's not exactly off-the-map," said Sam, "And just because we take precautions doesn't make the place invincible."

"What would you suggest, then?" Jay snapped.

"Perhaps a change of scenery," came a familiar voice, and Jay jumped as Dorian's hazy image appeared by her side.

"What is it?" Dean asked, on red alert.

"Nothing," she said, recovering from the shock, "Just Dorian. Glad you're back." she said to him. "What happened?"

"A parlor trick, nothing more," Dorian sniffed. "A spell to keep me away. Temporarily."

"What? What's he saying?" Dean asked.

"You should all leave," Dorian urged her, "Separate. The three of you are too valuable to be kept in one place."

Jay thought about this. "I. . . I don't know. . . we've talked about this a few times."

"And it's your best option," said Dorian. "If the brothers wish to stay together, that is their decision. They can protect one another. As for you, I was assigned to be your guardian."

"What's he _saying?_" Dean insisted.

"He thinks we should separate." said Jay. "Cas won't like it."

Dean started to speak but Jay shushed him and listened to Dorian.

"Then leave now," said the reaper, "While he is not present. You have the runes. The angel cannot track you."

"No way you're leaving on your own." said Dean, when he was sure Jay was done.

"Got a reaper," Jay pointed out.

"Who might be a spy of some sort." Dean shot back. "How did Crowley find you?"

"I might have driven to a crossroads," said Jay.

"_What?_"

"Not on purpose!" she defended, "I was just, you know, driving! In any case, you only think I should stick around because you feel responsible for me, but you aren't!"

_Don't leave._

There was a hint of a whisper somewhere in her head, a small tug at her heart, but she was sure it was only the Grail with good intentions, but she was not in the mood for listening to her.

"Where would you go?" Dean asked, "Where's a place safer than Bobby's?"

"If they assume or _know_ that I'm here, then _anywhere_ is a place safer than Bobby's—no offense—and I'm pretty sure they've got a good idea of where the hideout is, anyway. If we're going down the 'Don't Trust Demons Ever' path, then I'd say a meeting with Crowley is a good sign that I should book it. And maybe you guys should too."

"That's not—you shouldn't—Sam, tell her!" Dean blurted.

Jay turned to the younger brother, "Sam!"

Under the heat of both their gazes, Sam faltered, and rubbed his chin for a moment before speaking. "Dean, I. . . I think Jay's right."

Jay thought she felt a _No!_ somewhere within her, but she ignored that as well.

"You _what_? Dude!" Dean barked, clearly feeling betrayed.

"She makes a good point," Bobby put in calmly, "You guys have been hanging around longer than I would've thought was safe. . . and when they find out that there have been hunters in the neighborhood, well, it doesn't take the smartest bunch to put two and two together."

"That wraith was a state away." Dean pointed out, but he could tell he was losing. When the others only stared him down, he muttered, "At least take Cas with you."

"If it were up to Cas, I'd never be allowed out of the house," said Jay with a touch of acid in her voice. "Right, Dorian?"

She turned to where the reaper had been before, but he was gone.

"What's the matter?" asked Sam.

"He's, um, gone," she said lamely. "Dorian?" she called. Maybe he had just gone invisible. He was still sort of flickery to her once in a while. But she sensed an emptiness in the air that told her he was not in the house at all.

"I've got a reaper," Dean mimicked, "Yeah, real reliable."

Jay was about to retort, but she was interrupted when she saw Dorian bursting through the walls, becoming a cloudy, ghost-like image for a few moments.

"Demons!" he said quickly, his voice only a shade more panicky than usual. "You must go."

"Demons," Jay relayed to the men, and each went for a weapon. Dean peered through the window shades. "How many?" Jay asked, retrieving a shotgun from amongst the many books and checking to see how many rounds of salt she had.

"Too many to fight," said Dorian, and the same time Dean said, "I don't see any."

"Dorian says there's too many to handle," said Jay.

"Can't he just wipe them all out?" Dean asked, moving away from the window. Jay looked to the reaper in question.

"They came prepared to deal with a reaper," said Dorian, "You must leave."

"Jay!" Dean tossed her an unopened bag of salt, and she busied herself lining the room with it.

"How much time do we have?" Jay asked.

"They are here," he said, but his last word was clipped short when the window exploded.

Sam recovered first, popping up and firing several shots out the window, then ducking back down while Dean hastily finished the salt line.

"You good, Bobby?" Jay asked, leaning on his wheelchair.

"Dandy," he grunted.

"Oh shit. Shit!"

Jay turned around and saw Dean firing shots in quick succession out the window.

"What?" he asked.

"It's a freakin' army!" he said. "Panic room! Panic room!"

Jay was wheeling Bobby to the basement when she ran headfirst into a wall and rebounded painfully.

"Ow! What—"

It was covered in flowery wallpaper. What. Jay turned around. She was not at Bobby's at all. She looked out the window and saw the parking lot of a motel.

Then she saw Dorian. He looked as calm and as sullen as ever.

"What have you done?" she asked quietly.

"I brought you somewhere safe," he said. "As per my instructions."

"What about the others?"

"Where they were," he answered.

"Take me back!" shrieked Jay. "Take me back now!"

"No." he said.

"No? NO?! I have to help them!"

"You can't," he said flatly. "The risk is too great."

"Take me back or. . .!"

"Or what?" asked the reaper, even sounding a little sympathetic.

Jay slapped him—it was more an act of desperation than anger, and more an act of instinct than thought, but the result was not what she ever would have expected. Upon impact, for one frozen moment, Jay felt her blood run cold, thought she could feel her hand shriveling up at the touch of him, and suddenly felt impossibly old, on the brink of death. . . and then the moment was over. It was as if she were slapping a normal human being.

Dorian reeled backward, clutching the side of his face, for once showing true, pure emotion in his shock and horror. Jay had never seen him look so ungraceful. She forgot that she was angry with him and said "I'm sorry! I don't know what I . . . how I. . ."

Then, as he took his hand away and showed her solid hand print upon his face, Jay had a sudden realization. She surged at him and wrapped her hands around his neck, and felt again, for just a moment, close to death, but the feeling passed and then she was in control again. She wasn't sure what was happening to him as she gripped tighter, but he certainly was no longer exempt from the physical world. He was stumbling, bumping into desks. . .

"Take me back." she ordered. "I won't let go until you do."

A lightning pattern of red was seeping slowly out across her skin, working its way down his neck, up to his eyes. His voice came out muffled, faded, as though he were far away.

"Can't," he croaked, "I. . .can't."

When the red lightning formed a streak across the whites of his eyes, Jay could not bring herself to torture him any longer. She let go, and Dorian crumpled to the ground in a fit of wheezing.

For a moment Jay watched him struggle, then her thoughts came back to her and she ran for the door.

"Excuse me," Jay tapped the shoulder of a young man, after she had walked down the street a ways. "What town is this?"

He gave her a strange look, then said, "_Io non parlano inglese._"

Jay's heart sank.

Italy. She was in Italy. Dorian had moved her to Italy.

"Er. . . _questo è ciò che città?_" she tried. Her Italian was a little rusty. It had been fifty years at least.

The man laughed in answer, then pointed, and when her eyes followed the end of his finger, Jay's heart sank even further. She recognized the building he was pointing at, had visited many times before, when she'd spent some time in the country.

It was the Sistine Chapel.

"Vatican City," she said, "Dorian, what were you _thinking_?"

"Perhaps he wasn't."

Jay looked up into the young man's face, confused. He gripped her elbow tightly, and his grip held even as she tried her best to wrench away from her.

She saw a faint, heavenly glow behind the mans eyes and thought she saw the bare outline of a pair of enormous wings, almost like an afterimage. She looked back to where the motel had been, and saw Dorian flickering in and out of sight, closer and closer, trying to reach her.

Then they disappeared, and she found herself somewhere else entirely.


End file.
